Inside the Grand Vision Inn in Xia County.
Monk Yankong, abbot of Shaolin Temple's Arhat Hall, and Master Juekong, head of Dharma Hall, sat in a private room.
Shaolin Temple had booked the entire Grand Vision Inn. Or rather, the Grand Vision Inn itself was a Shaolin Temple property.
Some might ask, Shaolin Temple owned businesses too?
Heh, what famous, major sect didn't own a few businesses?
Never mind a martial arts world like this-even in an ordinary world, Shaolin Temple owned businesses.
In the television series The New Water Margin, Lu Zhishen and Elder Zhizhen went to have a monk's staff forged. Once it was finished, Elder Zhizhen offered to buy Lu Zhishen a drink. The two searched all over town, but not a single tavern would sell him wine.
The reason given was that they were monks.
Those taverns were all properties of Manjusri Temple, and Manjusri Temple had a rule forbidding the sale of wine to monks.
If even Water Margin was like that, this world went without saying.
Major sects opened these businesses partly to increase their income and partly to make gathering news of the martial world easier.
Some businesses might not have been opened by major sects, but they could operate under a major sect's name to seek its protection. They only needed to pay tribute every year.
Monk Yankong sipped his tea, his eyes nearly closed, leaving only narrow slits. With his kindly brows and benevolent eyes, he looked quite amiable.
But one must never be deceived by his appearance. He ranked among the ten strongest fighters of Shaolin Temple's current generation.
In his younger years, this old man had ventured into Jiangnan alone and earned a resounding reputation with his "Shaolin Great Compassion Hand."
Later, he became abbot of Arhat Hall and led the Shaolin Eighteen Arhats around the martial world to reason with people, taking the initiative to settle other people's grudges.
Without exception, everyone he reasoned with was won over by his reasoning.
As head of Dharma Hall, Monk Juekong's strength was second only to Master Yankong's, but he looked hot-tempered, would not tolerate a grain of sand in his eyes, and grew agitated after just a few words.
He looked at Yankong and said, "Senior Brother, did Zhang Junbao really not secretly learn our Shaolin martial arts?"
Looking at his irritable junior brother, Yankong gently advised, "Based on our inquiries around the area these past few days, perhaps we really did wrong him."
"Then where exactly did his martial arts come from? Could he really have figured them out himself?"
Yankong shook his head. "Talent like that... perhaps only the Patriarch of the Pure Yang Dao and Patriarch Damo could have managed it back in their day."
"If it wasn't this and it wasn't that, how exactly did he train?"
"Junior Brother, guard against anger," Yankong reminded him.
Juekong sighed and slammed his fist heavily onto the table.
"But during that match, I clearly saw that he had internal power!"
"Developing internal power through external training is hardly unheard of in this world."
"If we had carefully nurtured him from childhood and had him practice Shaolin martial arts from a young age, developing internal power through external training would make sense. But he was just a furnace boy, and Jueyuan was only a menial monk. Who ever taught him?" Juekong countered.
After thinking for a moment, he suddenly laughed. "Could he really be some kind of supreme genius?"
Yankong said nothing. He merely smiled, his smile mysterious.
The meaning was written on his face: he was a genius.
Without guidance, he had developed internal power through external training.
Without guidance, he had defeated the guest-reception monk using ordinary Shaolin fist techniques.
In just half a year, his martial cultivation had become no weaker than a Shaolin Arhat's.
A genius among geniuses.
They still did not believe Zhang Junbao could create his own cultivation methods, but even if they did not believe it, those points alone were enough to prove he was a martial arts genius.
Juekong drew a deep breath and rubbed his gleaming bald head in frustration. "Such a genius was driven out of Shaolin because of my mistake. I have failed Patriarch Damo!"
The more elite a sect was, the more it understood the importance of geniuses. Otherwise, why would the sect ancestors in those novels spare no effort to protect their sect's chosen prodigies?
Wasn't it because, when they looked at those prodigies, they saw hope for their sect's future and the light of their own sect one day shining across the martial world?
That was precisely what Juekong regretted.
Although the Buddhist sects now seemed to stand alone at the top, unrivaled in both popular faith and martial prestige, only they themselves knew how things really stood.
Among the Daoist sects, the Pure Yang Daoist Sect and the Quanzhen Dao Sect, which had risen within the last century, posed an enormous threat to the Buddhist sects' prestige. The Daoist sects on Mount Kunlun were even blazing like the sun at its zenith!
Mount Longhu had always represented the imperial court's state religion, and every successive Daoist leader served as Imperial Preceptor.
Thus, if the Buddhist sects wanted to continue flourishing, achievements within their own ranks were essential.
And Zhang Junbao was precisely that peerless prodigy who could send Shaolin soaring into the heavens, yet Juekong's own rigid thinking had forced him out!
Worst of all, after leaving Shaolin, he had actually put on Daoist robes!
That was the most intolerable part!
He could wear anything-even join the Beggar Clan!
Anything but Daoist robes!
Absolutely not!
Seeing his junior brother sighing so bitterly that even his internal power was beginning to fall into disorder, Master Yankong patted his wrist and transferred a thread of True Qi into him.
"Junior Brother, hold fast to your true heart. Do not let your inner demons affect your mind."
"Senior Brother!" Juekong raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, and sighed. "Do I still have a chance?"
He was impatient by nature, and now his own oversight had cost Shaolin a chance to reign supreme beneath heaven. Worse, he had personally pushed that opportunity into the Daoists' hands.
Such immense self-reproach sent a rush of agitation to his heart, nearly causing him to suffer Qi deviation.
Unable to bear watching his junior brother fall onto the demonic path and become trapped by inner demons, Monk Yankong smiled and consoled him. "Who said what he practices isn't Shaolin martial arts?"
"Senior Brother?"
Yankong rose and turned his back to his junior brother. "He grew up in our Shaolin from childhood. He owes us a debt for raising him.
"Besides, as long as he cannot clearly explain where his martial arts came from, then what he practices will remain our Shaolin's supreme arts until the day he dies.
"We cannot allow Shaolin's cultivation methods to leak out. We'll explain things clearly, invite him back, and have him return those martial arts to Shaolin's Scripture Pavilion. That isn't unreasonable, is it?"
"Senior Brother!"
Juekong's eyes widened, and he rose excitedly, trembling all over.
His senior brother truly was his senior brother. Impressive indeed.
"You're right, Senior Brother. Zhang Junbao grew up in our Shaolin Temple. With our prestige, will the martial world believe him or us?"
"Junior Brother, you are attached to outward appearances."
Juekong respectfully gave Yankong a Buddhist salute. "Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother."
Inside another inn, Zhang Qingyuan looked utterly bewildered after hearing Zhang Junbao's account.
What happened out there during these few days I spent in seclusion?
This is seriously at odds with my plan!
"So you're saying half the people out there want our lives, and the other half want to investigate our backgrounds?"
"Yes." Zhang Junbao nodded.
"Then I need to revise my plans. We really have to make a big splash this time."
"Brother Yuan."
"Hmm?"
"I'm a little worried."
"What are you worried about?"
Zhang Junbao said, "The ones leading the group from Shaolin this time are Master Yankong and Master Juekong. One is the abbot of Arhat Hall, and the other is the head of Dharma Hall."
Zhang Qingyuan frowned. Understanding what Zhang Junbao meant, he asked, "You're afraid they'll tie you up and drag you back?"
Zhang Junbao neither confirmed nor denied it, merely letting out a quiet sigh.
"Both masters are top experts within the temple. I'm worried that with our current cultivation, we can't beat them."
Though the two of them were martial arts geniuses, even counting everything, they had only cultivated for a little over half a year.
In terms of cultivation, they truly were no match for the two monks.
"They've cultivated for at least forty or fifty years, and the martial arts they use are supreme Buddhist techniques no weaker than ours.
"There are also those people risking their lives for the Wang Family, as well as the Shaolin disciples who came with them."
He said nothing about owing Shaolin a debt, because Zhang Junbao was not pedantic.
Monk Jueyuan was the one who had raised him. Although he had lived at Shaolin, Shaolin had never trained him.
He had long since repaid the kindness of food and lodging by carrying water, chopping firewood, washing clothes, and sweeping floors.
Besides, his master Jueyuan had died at their hands. As far as Zhang Junbao was concerned, not holding a grudge was already generous enough. Repay their kindness?
Right now, he was simply worried about being tied up and taken back to Shaolin.
Although they were unlikely to risk universal condemnation by doing something that would give people grounds to criticize them.
But Brother Yuan had also spoken that day about the Buddhist sects' usual way of doing things. Reasoning with them would get nowhere.
Zhang Qingyuan pondered, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the tabletop.
"Tap... tap... tap..."
After a while, Zhang Qingyuan suddenly said, "We don't need to worry about that group the Wang Family sent to surround and kill us. Our current cultivation is enough to deal with them.
"The main concern now is the monks interfering. If they join the fight, we really aren't their match."
Zhang Qingyuan thought, No wonder Zhang Junbao in every world finds somewhere to cultivate in seclusion for a decade or more after leaving Shaolin.
Perhaps that was precisely how he managed to fade from Shaolin's sight.
When he appeared again a decade or so later, he had already maxed out his account level. The moment he emerged, he was invincible beneath heaven, and Shaolin Temple could do nothing to him.
But in this world, because Zhang Qingyuan had appeared, Zhang Junbao had not hidden away to grind levels in secret, resulting in him encountering a BOSS as soon as he ventured out.
Shaolin-one of the top sects, an ancient monastery with a thousand-year legacy.
Fuck, who gives someone a BOSS battle right after they leave the beginner village?
After thinking for a long time, Zhang Qingyuan gritted his teeth and said, "There's no running away.
"We proceed with the original plan!"
Zhang Junbao's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly asked, "Brother Yuan, have you thought of a solution?"
Zhang Qingyuan smiled and said frankly, "We'll wait a few more days before going out. Let the martial world grow a little more chaotic, and give me time to write a letter. Hehe."
Seeing Brother Yuan's expression, Zhang Junbao knew they had this one in the bag.
Zhang Qingyuan already had an idea in mind.
Trying to compete in sales patter with me, a property salesman? Go practice for a few more years!