Devouring Evil Martial Arts, Eliminating Demons from All Heavens

Chapter 515 The Old Beggar is Gone, the Little Beggar Arrives

Inside the soup kitchen, large stoves and roaring fires filled the air.

Although the stove used was somewhat simple, the pot and lid were brought from the Zhao family's residence.

The large iron pot boils water and cooks porridge quickly and fragrantly, without worrying about burning, sticking to the bottom, or undercooking.

The thick wooden lid fits perfectly; once it's on, even if the inside is boiling vigorously, only wisps of steam escape.

The people cooking the porridge are all skilled, timing it perfectly. As soon as the lid is lifted, thick steam rises up like a large lingzhi mushroom.

The aroma of porridge wafted everywhere, and the porridge stall was even handing out bowls.

The old beggar in the alley, seeing this, was certain that the porridge was not poisoned, and a glint of shrewdness flashed in his eyes.

His profound sense of energy made his eyes, in that instant, seem to regard the numerous walls and houses in front of him as if they did not exist.

All the ordinary people moving about and busying themselves within the Zhao residence were seen as tiny candle flames, insignificant and not worth mentioning.

Only Yang Chengwu, inside the main hall, resembled a torch.

Looking further away from Yang Chengwu...

That person, instead of being sensed by the energy and manifesting as a ball of flame, was a complete, vivid, and full-bodied living person standing there.

His hair, facial features, and even the clothes he wore all possessed a texture distinct from everything else, clearly reflected in the old beggar's eyes.

"When did such a kind-hearted master appear in the martial arts world? But he is not the one I am looking for."

The old beggar in the alley has disappeared, leaving only a faint muttering to himself.

Inside the main hall of the Zhao residence.

Chu Tianshu was having Yang Chengwu draw all the martial arts masters he knew, and he stood beside him to examine them.

Suddenly, Chu Tianshu looked up and looked outside.

Yu Danxia was also standing by the table, helping to tidy up the portrait. Seeing this, she asked in surprise, "My benefactor, what's wrong?"

"There was someone spying on the whole mansion outside just now, but by the time I looked for him, he was already gone."

Chu Tianshu narrowed his eyes slightly, "He walks very fast. This person's skill is quite remarkable, but something about him is a bit off..."

That man possessed a grand and upright character, yet also carried a touch of impetuousness and ruthlessness.

Fierceness and ruthlessness are not inherently contradictory.

Chu Tianshu's martial arts also include many ruthless and fierce moves.

However, this person's uprightness seemed particularly profound and enduring, possessing a calm and unhurried quality that seemed to exist continuously without needing to be used.

In this situation, his other aura seemed too hasty and ruthless, and the two were somewhat mismatched.

Chu Tianshu guessed that he must have cultivated two martial arts to an extremely profound level, but he was not able to integrate them well.

"The fact that this person's skill level is insufficient to perfectly connect the two types of energy indicates that at least one of these two techniques has an exceptionally solid foundation and profound understanding."

This matter piqued Chu Tianshu's interest.

He told the two people beside him about the beggar's appearance that he had just caught a glimpse of.

"When it comes to expert beggars, the most famous are the members of the Beggars' Sect."

Yu Danxia said, "However, the Beggars' Sect is now fragmented, and the position of sect leader has been vacant for a long time. I heard that there are at least seventeen branch sects, each independent and acting like heretics..."

Yang Chengwu shook his head.

"After your Qingcheng fell, you were indeed ignorant and ill-informed. None of the real secrets have been passed down. The Beggars' Sect still has a leader, and his authority is no less than that of the most famous members in the history of the Beggars' Sect."

"Although the seventeen branches are not on equal footing with each other, they would never dare to disobey the leader as long as he gives the order."

Back then, after Kublai Khan, the Yuan emperor, conquered the south of the Yangtze River and destroyed the Southern Song Dynasty, he was concerned that the martial arts practitioners, relying on their superior skills, were not content with their lot.

Therefore, he devoted a lot of energy to dealing with the martial arts world through either suppression or appeasement, with his two primary targets being Shaolin and the Beggars' Sect.

Since the Tang, Song, and Jin dynasties, Shaolin has been repeatedly awarded titles and honors, and its influence is vast. Throughout history, it has often taken in masters to become monks, accumulating countless unique skills. It also discussed Zen and Buddhism with high-ranking officials and gentry, and frequented prominent and influential places.

The Beggars' Sect is rooted in the common people and claims that all beggars under heaven are one family. Although not all beggars are members of the Beggars' Sect, the sheer number of its disciples makes it arguably the largest sect.

Despite Kublai Khan's immense power, it only took him a little over a year to purge the Shaolin Beggars' Sect's leadership from internal strife.

The new leader of the Beggars' Sect at that time was named Shepherd Shepherd. He was awarded by Kublai Khan and held a rank equivalent to a duke, which was passed down for three generations.

After Kublai Khan's death, the Yuan Dynasty changed emperors frequently.

The position of Beggars' Sect leader has been held by this shepherd for sixty years.

Because Kublai Khan's order was to have the Shepherds carefully divide the Beggars' Sect's power, and this was indeed carried out very well for the first few decades.

Later, the Beggars' Sect became too deeply entrenched in its problems. Even though Shepherd Yang wanted to intervene in specific affairs, it was difficult to get them to put aside their old grudges and unite as one. So he simply used his martial arts skills to maintain his authority over the leaders of the various branches and to accept their offerings.

Therefore, for the past thirty years, ordinary people in the martial arts world have all believed that the leader of the Beggars' Sect is no longer alive.

Chu Tianshu nodded slightly.

He had long realized that Yu Danxia's insights might not be reliable, which is why he asked Yang Chengwu to draw portraits of all the martial arts masters.

"Keep drawing!"

Time passes by.

The Zhao family generously distributed porridge and clothing. Even at midnight, there were still embers in the stove, so they boiled water and distributed it to the refugees.

Chu Tianshu arranged shifts for all the workers.

The people who had just taken over the Jiazi soup kitchen were a middle-aged cook and a few grooms.

As night deepens and the dew grows heavier, the weather grows cold.

Just as the cook was about to fetch a basin of hot water to wash her hands, a beggar appeared outside the stove.

The beggar had a head full of messy hair, covered in straw, and a thick black beard. His facial features were not clearly visible, and he was covered with many layers of tattered, thin clothes.

"What would you like, sir?"

The cook was a worldly woman; seeing that the beggar's hair and beard were black, glossy, and shiny, she knew he was no ordinary person, so she spoke to him even more politely.

"No, no, sir, I don't have any money."

The beggar spoke, his voice slightly hoarse, clearly indicating he was still a young man, and said with a smirk, "Big sister, I heard there's free porridge here."

"I'm starving, could you give me two bowls?"

The cook said with difficulty, "The porridge will be ready tomorrow; we only have some warm water and raw rice here."

"Raw rice is fine too! Give me two handfuls of rice, and I'll cook it myself when I get home."

The beggar quickly bowed and said, "I know some auspicious songs; I'll sing one for you."

The cook just wanted to rest and had no time to listen to him singing in the middle of the night, so she quickly declined and grabbed a handful of rice for him.

The young beggar wrapped the rice in a rag, thanked him profusely, and left.

He wandered through streets and alleys, turning east and west, passing quiet alley entrances, crossing barking streets, and stood in front of a dilapidated doorway, looking around.

This place originally belonged to a wealthy family. A Tartar officer took a liking to it and forcibly bought it, but many years passed without anyone ever coming to live there.

It's unclear whether he had too many houses to live in, or if something had happened to the Tartar himself.

There was a lot of bird droppings in front of the door, cobwebs on the door, and weeds growing everywhere in the yard. A large lotus pot had been turned into a stinking, grassy water tank.

The young beggar jumped over the wall and entered the living room.

The living room was also covered in cobwebs and dust, and many of the wooden tables and chairs had been chopped up for firewood.

By the window, a fire was lit, and an earthenware pot was placed on it, boiling water.

Over there stood a thin man, dressed in tattered clothes, who had wrapped his head in a blue cloth, covering most of his face, and staring gloomily at the fire.

"Brother Sun Liang, I'm back!"

The young beggar rushed over and poured the rice from the tattered cloth into the hot water in the earthenware pot, all the while talking nonstop.

"I never thought that the Zhao family would actually give out porridge and rice. Oh my, I've seen that Master Zhao from afar before, and he doesn't look like a good person at all."

"You really can't judge a book by its cover, and you can't measure the sea with a bucket. Tomorrow I'll carve out a longevity tablet for him and bow to it a couple of times..."

The thin man didn't want to speak at first, but when he saw the dust on the tattered cloth shaking as the beggar poured out the rice, he couldn't help but speak.

“Eighth Brother, if you keep shaking like this, we’ll be eating black porridge instead of white rice.” “It’s alright, Brother Sun, don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

The young beggar sighed, "In the hardest times before, we would throw rotten grass roots into the water, deliberately not cleaning off the mud. The mud would get into our stomachs and keep us going for half a day."

Sun Liang's lips twitched twice.

You really don't care, but I... never mind, you still have to get the rice back.

Sun Liang took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but he inhaled a mouthful of dust and coughed violently.

This cough caused the blue cloth covering his face to be shaken off, revealing a horrifying face.

On the right side of his face, a large red birthmark-like patch covered a large area of ​​skin from his forehead to his eye and then to his lips.

On the left side of his face, there were three or four red spots the size of copper coins, and in the center of the red spots, there seemed to be a small sore.

The beggar glanced at him.

Sun Liang's expression changed drastically. He grabbed the tattered cloth and tried to cover his face again.

"Your face..."

The beggar looked thoughtful.

Sun Liang's face darkened again.

"Perfect for playing Liu Bang."

The beggar slapped his thigh. "You wouldn't let me look closely before, but now it seems he'd be perfect for playing Liu Bang."

Sun Liang: "Huh? Me? Liu Bang?"

The beggar said, "Of course, my great-great-grandfather was blessed with seventy-two red moles on his face and seventy-two black moles on the soles of his feet."

"What do you think? A human face is only a small area. If you have seventy-two red moles, wouldn't it look all patchy and messy?"

"Your appearance is perfect; this is what you call a dragon's countenance!"

The beggar got more and more excited as he talked, gesturing wildly.

“Tomorrow, let’s go out and put on a show. You can play Liu Bang, and I’ll play Xiang Yu…”

Sun Liang said in a low voice, "How could the Emperor Gaozu have looked like that?"

The beggar laughed and asked, "Then tell me, what did Liu Bang look like?"

Sun Liang was speechless for a moment.

"Because he was the great-grandfather, no matter what he looked like, he was considered a hero."

The beggar shook his head and said, "Look at the Vajra warriors and the Four Heavenly Kings in the temple. None of them look like decent people. They are famous and capable, so they have become fierce."

"Are we, living, breathing people, really going to outlive those four clay and wooden sculptures?"

Sun Liang had already discerned the underlying meaning in his words; he was simply trying to comfort him.

But after he made such a fuss, I can't even feel gloomy anymore.

"Ugh!"

Sun Liang straightened his chest, sat cross-legged, and rested his hands on his knees, saying politely, "That's right, a man should have ambition. For a real man, face is just a small matter."

A voice suddenly drifted in from outside.

"You have a disorder of the Triple Burner meridian, with excessive Yang and fire. Soon you will feel like your internal organs are burning and your body fluids will evaporate, which is no small matter."

The two people inside the room were both startled.

The beggar stood with his feet apart, his left hand on his dantian and his right hand slightly extended forward. It was a very simple palm strike, but it already showed a sense of strict discipline.

Sun Liang took a deep breath, swallowing a large ball of flame from the fire into his mouth.

He seemed to be a balloon filled with raging fire, and he floated up, his toes three inches off the ground, swaying and not touching the ground.

No one could tell whether he was going forward or backward.

The beggar said, "In the dead of night, may I ask which hero is playing a joke on us two little beggars?"

They looked around, but the cracks in the broken doors and windows couldn't block their view at all.

But there was no one in sight.

Even with my hearing at its sharpest, I couldn't sense anyone around me.

The sound rang out again, as if it exploded directly in the air right inside the room.

"I missed an old beggar during the day, but I found you interesting tonight, so I came to check you out. What's your name?"

Upon hearing this question, the young beggar's eyes suddenly lit up, his spine cracked, and he seemed to grow two inches taller, his beard, hair, and robes moving even without wind.

"I will not change my name or surname. My name is Eighth Class, with the compound surname Eighth and the single name Deng."

“Back then, my parents were fleeing famine. They were about to give birth to me on the way, so they begged me to wait. I waited for seven days and seven nights until we finally reached a place where we could settle down. I was born safely, and both mother and child were safe.”

"My name is a blessed name, and I have been a blessed man since birth."

"When a dragon rises, it must first lie low before leaping; when a war dragon is in the wild, misfortune turns into good fortune!"

When others simply asked him his name, he launched into a long speech, seemingly out of nowhere.

But the more he spoke, the more imposing he became.

Originally, his aura was three points weaker than Sun Liang's, but by the time he finished speaking, his momentum far surpassed Sun Liang's.

When he finished speaking, his breath was so deep and powerful that it even surpassed Qin An's by a little.

The entire hall was filled with his aura, which made it sway slightly like a lone lamp in the wind.

The entire mansion was filled with his presence.

However, he still couldn't find where that person was.

"Heh, you have considerable internal energy, but you seem to lack confidence. Do you need to use those words just now to activate your power?"

Chu Tianshu's voice rang out again.

The door creaked open, and he walked in, just like any other ordinary person.

Just before he entered the door, neither Eighth Rank nor Sun Liang realized that anyone was outside.

In their eyes, it was as if they had seen a ghost, as if this person had appeared out of thin air.

The cold wind of midnight blew into the house from outside the door.

Sun Liang's face twitched violently.

The eighth-ranked one also fell silent, his aura dissipating and decreasing like water released from a dam, before suddenly smiling.

"hey-hey!"

He turned around, found a round stool, wiped the dust clean with his sleeve, breathed on it, wiped it twice more, and said respectfully, "Sir, please sit down."

Chu Tianshu didn't stand on ceremony and sat down directly, laughing, "I'm not on guard anymore."

"Being on guard is useless. You can kill us or do whatever you want to us, we'll take it."

Eighth-rank tugged at Sun Liang, pulling him to kneel down in front of Chu Tianshu with a thud, looking resigned to his fate, but still chattering away.

"Besides, I'm thinking that what you just said, sir, had a bit of the old doctor's meaning to it. This isn't someone who's here to take our lives; this is a benefactor!"

"As the play says, men like us, whose lives are full of twists and turns but who have one or two special skills, have now met a benefactor. From now on, we can repay his kindness by serving him faithfully for three lifetimes."

"As long as you don't go astray and uphold loyalty and righteousness, you might just be able to make a good future!"

Chu Tianshu shook his head and chuckled, then gestured with one hand as if to support something.

Unable to withstand the pressure, both of them stood up.

"I have already made plans for his illness."

Chu Tianshu sized up Sun Liang and noticed that he was very wary and seemed to be hiding a treasure. He was too nervous, so he turned to talk to the eighth person first.

"But your skill level, most of it, wasn't cultivated by yourself, was it? What's its origin?"

The eighth type is decisive, honest, and speaks their mind without hesitation.

(End of this chapter)