Chapter 83: Tianlong Temple!

Duan Zhengchun was startled, then after some thought answered:“His skills surpass my own, without doubt. Compared with Duan Yanqing, I believe them to be on par.”

That was his measured judgment.

Duan Zhengming nodded slightly:“When I met him today, I too saw something. His eyes brim with spirit, his breath deep and long—he clearly possesses immense inner power!

This Mister Fang is indeed a remarkable man.”

As ruler, and foremost lay disciple of the Dali Duan clan, his judgment was not lacking.

Duan Zhengchun sensed something behind these words:

“Royal Brother intends…”

Duan Zhengming sighed:“Tianlong Temple is the root of our Dali Duan clan. It must not be lost. If we can gain another helper, it would be most welcome.”

The Duan clan’s survival through generations owed much to Tianlong Temple’s power.

Whenever turmoil arose, it was their intervention that secured the state.

Just as with Prince Yanqing’s rebellion—when traitors had plotted treason and chaos reigned, Tianlong Temple’s intervention had preserved the throne for their line.

For reasons both political and personal, Duan Zhengming could not abide by any mishap to Tianlong Temple.

Duan Zhengchun pondered:“This is no trivial matter. We must ask Mister Fang’s consent.”

Duan Zhengming said:“Simply put it before him. Whether he agrees or not, treat him with utmost respect.”

“No need to remind me, Royal Brother—I understand.”

Returning from the palace to the prince’s residence, Duan Zhengchun brooded long, forming a rough speech in his mind.

But by then, it was deep in the night.

Once more, he went to Dao Baifeng’s quarters.

Phoenix’er has long refused to return. This time, only Yu’er’s injury brought her back. I must seize the chance to coax her. Otherwise, once matters pass, she may well retreat back to that Taoist convent of hers.

With this thought, he entered.

“Who!?”

Dao Baifeng cast him a cold glance. Upon seeing it was Duan Zhengchun, she could not be bothered to speak, and directly expelled him.

Standing at her door, Duan Zhengchun looked utterly bewildered, sighing at length.

Hadn’t her attitude just days earlier seemed to soften? Why such a fire tonight?

Has something spoiled her mood?

He could not fathom it.

But with business awaiting tomorrow, he could not linger, and so departed.

Inside, Dao Baifeng sat silently, frowning in thought.

Yesterday, one of the young women she had seen—the one surnamed Mu—her features bore a striking resemblance to the [Xiuluo Dao] Qin Hongmian.

Were it not for the occasion, she would have already inquired.

But as that man was Yu’er’s savior, she had refrained.

Thinking of that peculiar gaze earlier, she unconsciously touched herself and frowned in silence.

The next day—

After hearing Duan Zhengchun’s request, Fang Han listened calmly, his expression unreadable.

This had actually gone smoother than he expected. He had thought to employ certain means, but the other had come to him first.

Duan Zhengchun, seeing his silence, felt ashamed. The man had honored him as a guest, and now he was asking for such favors…

He was about to speak again when Fang Han said:“I have long heard of Tianlong Temple’s renown. To visit would be my honor.”

Duan Zhengchun’s joy overflowed:“Many thanks, Mister Fang! I cannot express my gratitude enough!”

Fang Han only smiled inwardly.

No need to thank me. What I covet is your Tianlong Temple’s Six Meridian Divine Sword. Whether I truly help, or secretly hinder, remains to be seen.

Two days passed swiftly.

Fang Han finished his meditation and told Miss Cheng:“Today we accompany Prince Zhen Nan to Tianlong Temple. There may be turbulence, but don’t worry.”

Miss Cheng came forward, carefully arranging his garments:“Be cautious in all things.”

Fang Han clasped her slender, tender hands:“I will.”

After a tender moment, he left.

Half a day later—

Outside Dali city, at Tianlong Temple.

Amid solemnity, all eyes burned with anger.

Amid the rising smoke of incense, a tall monk of imposing presence stood firmly in the hall.

It was none other than the Tubo national master—Jiumozhi!

Ignoring the hostile stares, Jiumozhi pressed his palms together, sighing:

“This little monk comes without malice. Why does your esteemed temple refuse to fulfill the last wish of my friend Murong?”

Yet inwardly, he simmered at their obstinacy.

He had offered three supreme finger techniques from Shaolin’s Seventy-two Arts—Niehua Zhi, Duoluo Ye Zhi, and Wuxiang Jie Zhi—in exchange for the Six Meridian Divine Sword, but had been rejected time and again!

Hints, persuasion, pressure, intimidation—all had failed to move the monks of Tianlong Temple.

After repeated refusal, even Jiumozhi’s patience wore thin.

If the soft approach failed, then he would seize it by force!

A faint smile spread on his lips:

“Long have I heard that Tianlong Temple’s Six Meridian Divine Sword is unrivaled in sharpness. But I wonder how true that is! Today, this little monk must test it for himself!”

With that, his inner force surged.

The curling incense smoke trembled under its power as he slashed his palm!

Huoyan Dao!

The blade of flame roared forth, radiating heat like fire itself.

Such inner strength was profound beyond measure!

The five monks at the front changed color, each raising their hands as swords, thrusting forward!

Shua!

The air rippled like water, invisible swords shooting forth from their fingers.

Blade force and sword qi collided and entangled, erupting in a sizzling roar.

These were no ordinary monks—the five were of the “Ben” generation, high masters of Tianlong Temple. Their inner strength was deep, and they had each cultivated the First Grade Yiyang Finger, as well as one meridian of the Six Meridian Divine Sword.

Yet, perhaps because events had diverged from their original course—

Emperor Baoding, Duan Zhengming, had not shaved his head to become a monk, nor studied the final meridian of the Divine Sword.

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Footnotes

* * * * Lingbo Weibu (凌波微步): “Rippled Steps on the Waves,” a legendary lightness skill emphasizing graceful, evasive footwork.

* * * * Xiuluo Dao (修罗刀): “Shura Blade,” epithet of Qin Hongmian, referring to her fierce and deadly swordsmanship.

* * * * Niehua Zhi (捏花指): “Flower-Picking Finger,” a Shaolin finger technique known for precision strikes.

* * * * Duoluo Ye Zhi (多罗叶指): “Fallen Leaf Finger,” another Shaolin finger technique, swift and subtle.