Lin Lang stood up and stretched. "Lying down for too long really does get tiring. Just the time to move around."
Cheng Kun stood rooted to the spot, not daring to move.
He was a Great Grandmaster, and after secretly learning quite a few Shaolin Supreme Arts, he had no fear of facing someone at the Late Great Grandmaster Stage despite being only at the middle Great Grandmaster Stage himself.
He was no match for Lu Xiaofeng or Jiumozhi, but with his experience, he could still suppress Hua Wuque barehanded.
He had even held back all this time to ensure he could escape whenever he needed to.
But when he saw Lin Lang sit up, he knew it was all over.
Never mind that he was still far from being a peak Great Grandmaster-even if he had reached that level, he would not last three moves against Lin Lang. He might even be killed in one.
Who wanted to die if they could live?
"What clever calculations, Imperial Preceptor of Great Ming. So you were feigning injury all along, just to see who would dare attack you?"
Knowing Lu Xiaofeng and A'Fei were not with him, he had thought this was a fine opportunity. He had never imagined it was a trap.
He should have realized sooner. He should not have come in person.
But Lin Lang possessed so many Divine Arts that he simply could not resist.
If he could obtain them, he could easily surpass Zhao Deyan within a few years. He and Jinlun Fawang were both monks. If Jinlun Fawang could become the Mongol Yuan Imperial Preceptor, why couldn't he?
Handing Lin Lang over to Zhao Min was merely a way to curry favor with Prince of Ruyang's Manor while making them take the blame and draw