With all these qualities, I will eventually become immortal.

Chapter 538 The Provocation of the Fat Monk of Quan Ding Chan Mountain!

The two stopped exchanging Zen riddles and focused on their journey.

Talking about this stuff too much gets annoying; it's all so mystical.
Jueming and Mengchuan walked side by side, passing by the Hall of Heavenly Kings.

The young monk noticed two tall, muscular figures outside the temple gate and gestured with his chin.
"Brother Meng, do you know who these two people are?"

Hearing the sound, he looked.

Perceptual convergence, to avoid causing unnecessary trouble.

From a distance of about a hundred meters, Meng Chuan had good eyesight and spotted the two people from the side.

That skin color, that big beard!
Those eyes and that nose!
A dark version of Jack from Wudang.
Looking at it this way, Meng Chuan was a little surprised and asked in a low voice:
"Jue Ming, your Shaolin Temple even has international exchange students?"

Can foreigners understand Buddhism?

Buddhist teachings are profound and their principles are obscure.

In comparison, it is far more difficult to learn than the doctrines of Taoism.

Even a local like Meng Chuan struggled to learn it, let alone foreigners.

Moreover.

As everyone knows, Black people don't speak the same language.
Jue Ming remained silent, knowing that he was too far away to see clearly.

explained:
"Brother Meng, these two are guests from our temple who have come all the way from the Western Regions."

You wouldn't dare say that to my face.

"I understand."

Meng Chuan suddenly realized that they were one of their own.

The Western Regions were also an important part of the territory of the Great Chu.

It's just that it's quite far from the Central Plains and the coast.

The esoteric body-refining ointment I used before came from here.

Although the men of the Western Regions are dark-skinned, they are known for their beautiful women with exotic charms.

This land has countless Dilraba Nazhas.
There was also the mustachioed man from the Western Regions who supplied the Demon Summoning Hall before.

I don't know if they were sentenced or if they were already reincarnated.
The young monk lowered his voice even further, whispering in Meng Chuan's ear:

"The one with the slightly yellowish complexion is one of the only two offspring of the Great Ceremony in the Western Regions."

His name is the Third Prince, Fanluo; he is of very high status.

Meng Chuan raised an eyebrow and nodded inwardly.

He seems to be a top-tier second-generation martial arts master.

Both of his parents were martial arts masters; only Fan Luo had this distinction.

“He visited the martial arts academy yesterday, but you weren’t there. It was the old master who introduced us to him.”

That man had quite the entourage; the guard beside him wasn't just a martial arts master, but a grandmaster who combined internal and external martial arts skills!

Is this black guy a master of the four limits?
Meng Chuandao:
"His family background is quite distinguished; he's the son of two saints. It's normal for him to have a powerful bodyguard when he's out and about."

Perhaps he also possesses a protective treasure given to him by the Great Sage. Having bodyguards is meant to make those with ill intentions keep their eyes peeled, thus avoiding trouble.

As for martial arts masters, it is perfectly normal for them to be willing to condescend to serve as bodyguards for others.

Both of Fanluo's parents are Great Saints. If they casually reveal a little benefit, even a Venerable without a strong foundation would be tempted.

As for the Six Limits Heavenly King, he thought it was impossible; there was no one willing to do that kind of servant work.

He could easily become the head of any top-tier martial arts university.

If one wishes to enter politics, one should aim for a high position.

Whether they are stationed in four different locations or heads of key departments, they are never short of benefits.

Thinking of this, he saw the young monk beside him lower his head, kick a pebble at his feet, and suddenly sighed inwardly:
"Brother Meng, people of the same kind have different fates."

After saying that, he left first.

The young monk's mind went dark.

Thinking about how he had no parents and went to Shaolin Temple at the age of five, he realized that he was an orphan.

Compared to others, I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

He sensed the young monk's thoughts, stepped forward, patted him on the shoulder, and comforted him:

“I remember the Impermanence Sutra says: All things in the world are manifestations, destiny is created by oneself, and appearance is born from the mind. Little master, take it easy.”

The young monk paused, nodded, and then his steps quickened slightly:

"Brother Meng is right, I was too attached to appearances."

With such martial arts talent, one in ten thousand is already exceptional; what more could one ask for?

Meng Chuan walked ahead, his voice leisurely:

"If the mind is unmoved, all things are unmoved; if the mind is unchanged, all things are unchanged."

Our origins are not something we can choose, so why worry about it?

This statement was something he had only recently come to understand regarding the "martial arts and Buddhist principles."

Focusing on what one can do and diligently pursuing what can be changed and altered—this is the core of unifying one's mind and energy.

That is, the true use of intention!
Jueming pondered the matter repeatedly until the newly built martial monks' academy came into view, at which point he suddenly realized the truth.

With hands clasped together, bow deeply:
"Thank you, Brother Meng, I understand now."

Enter the martial arts monks' courtyard.

The newly built training ground.

Meng Chuan was also visiting for the first time, and he looked around at the changes.

They look exactly the same as before.

just
He used about 50% of his strength and stomped his foot.

Dust billowed and the aura spread.

All changes vanished, yet the ground remained unchanged.

He knew it.

The ground structure of this training ground must have been made of some special materials to make it so solid.

Most of the UN's billion dollars was spent on this.
In the distance, the white-robed old monk could be seen beginning to instruct his disciples.

His name is Shi Nan, a martial arts master, known as "Fist Stabilizes Zen Mountain," and he is also a centenarian elder of the Shaolin Shi family.

He was entrusted by the Buddha to take over Huiyuan's position.

He was originally a leisurely elder in the "Internal Affairs" department, and since he had nothing better to do, he agreed.

An old monk, holding a staff, paced around the area, tapping and striking the objects.

Seeing that his disciple's movements were not right, he skillfully used a wisp of his inner energy to land on him.

He drew out the words, his tone one of exasperation and disappointment:

"Amitabha! You stubborn monks, you stone monks! How many years have you practiced Arhat Fist?" A disciple, who had just been struck by a stick, pursed his lips and said:
"I have been a disciple of Shaolin for nearly twenty years."

Snapped!
A blow landed on his back, adding another red mark.

"You have also mastered the Wide-Handed Fist and practiced it for twenty years, yet you are no match for that outsider Meng Chuan, who has only studied it for less than two months?"

Snapped!
Before he could finish speaking, another blow came down.

The disciple jolted, wincing in pain:

"Elder, why did you hit me with that stick again?"

"Amitabha, all the other monks are silent, but you talk too much! Go back and practice the meditation of silence more often to cure your habit of talking too much."

"."

The sounds of fists and kicks, shouts of killing, and the mixture of sweat, white mist, and blood vapors created a chaotic scene.

Meng Chuan and Jue Ming walked into the depths of the training ground to meet up with the fat monk Liao Chen.

Hearing what the old monk said, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Hello, teacher, I'm here to audit another class."

The white-robed old monk glanced at him, his expression changing faster than flipping through a calendar.

"You're here. Shall we learn the Equal King Fist today? This old monk's fist technique is absolutely the best in Shaolin."

Master Shinan doesn't care about idle gossip like "little demons."

In his view, Meng Chuan is well-mannered, insightful, and likes Luohan boxing.

That's what a good student is!

In addition, the bald head gave off a sense of familiarity, which often made him mistakenly believe that the person was his own disciple.

"It's just that something's still missing on the top of your head. It would be even better if this old monk could apply some more ordination scars."

Meng Chuan, of course, had no idea what he was thinking.

Just looking at the other person's eyes made me feel a little uneasy.
He cupped his hands and smiled:
“Master, you can teach me whatever you want, I can just listen in. We won’t practice the real Luohan Fist yet. When we first learn the Luohan method, we should lay a solid foundation.”

Even after the Long-Eyebrow Fist broke through its limit, it still couldn't attract the Eighteen Arhats.

We'll decide then whether to continue practicing the true Arhat Fist or try a different method.

Upon hearing this, the old monk paused, then turned and glared at the crowd, his beard bristling.
“Amitabha! You unruly monks, listen to what others have to say.”

They're all overambitious, dreaming of learning the Seventy-Two Arts and secret techniques—their ambitions are sky-high!

Seeing that he was being used as an example to educate the other disciples, Meng Chuan, though already used to it, still smiled wryly and bowed to everyone to "apologize".

Beside him, the young monk Jueming, upon hearing the old monk's words, quickly shrank back and hid behind Meng Chuan.

The young monk wanted to learn the "Seven Killings Technique for Overcoming Evil and Difficulties" every day, but the old monk was in a bad mood right now, so he had to avoid him.
Meng Chuan shook his head and smiled, walking ahead with his figure expanding to block out Jue Ming.

We're all buddies.

From afar, one could see the fat monk practicing boxing. His movements, from stretching his fists to pushing his palms, were accompanied by the movement of dragon-shaped energy, suggesting that his skills had improved.

Since they came up the mountain, in about two months, the two have fought no less than ten times.

Therefore, at this moment, Meng Chuan was able to discern some of the other party's intentions.

Having not sparred for two weeks, he has made considerable progress.

Upon seeing Chen, he naturally felt an urge to touch her.

"Fat monk, come and practice."

He was familiar with Liao Chen, and they didn't need to use formal titles in daily life.

He walked over with great interest and invited Chen to have a match.

Yesterday, it was found that more than 210 of the acupoints and stars in his body had been lit up.

The total amount of Qi and Blood exceeds 25,000 points.

Let's challenge this fat monk again and see if we can beat him.

Upon hearing this, Liao Chen stopped and stood still, his hands also itching to be touched.

Knowing that Meng Chuan was powerful, even though he had not yet broken through to the third level of the Grandmaster realm, his strength should not be underestimated.

In particular, this kid can transform.

If someone were to reach a height of over ten meters, he would be no match for them.

On his chubby, round face, his eyes darted around, then he clasped his hands together and smiled:
“Benefactor Meng, the contest is fine, but remember to make your body bigger beforehand.”

"My boxing skills have improved recently, and I'm worried that you might not be able to react in time and could get injured."

Meng Chuan waved his hand:

"No need to transform, we can just have a normal fight, Master Liaochen, you don't need to worry about me."

"Amitabha Buddha, but..."

"Once the rules are set, they cannot be taken back. That's settled then."

"Good."

The fat monk lowered his eyes to hide his true feelings, but in reality, he was secretly delighted.

If Meng Chuan agrees not to grow larger, then this sparring match will have a story to tell.
Exciting general method!

He knew exactly what the other party was up to, and smiled knowingly.

This fat monk looks simple and honest, but he's actually quite clever.

If you didn't know them, you could easily be fooled by their appearance.

He agreed to this condition because he was confident in his abilities.

The fat monk's health points were twice that of his own, over 50,000.

With his current level of energy and vitality, he can no longer easily overwhelm anyone.

Whether we can win or not, we'll only know after we fight.

If there is real danger, then we can liberate them.

He's not stupid.
Meng Chuan stomped his foot again, crushing a few grains of sand and gravel:
"Big Fat Monk, if we fight here, can the training ground handle it?"

Both of them were masters of capturing the essence or form of a Dharma.

If they start fighting, it will cause quite a stir.

Liao Chen's smile was somewhat sly.
"Of course, the new training ground is well-built."

To prevent a repeat of the damage caused by your previous actions, the materials used in the defenses are of the highest quality.

Meng Chuan nodded awkwardly, then cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to the disciples who were observing the two of them.

Seeing this, they helped clear a large open space.

"These two are going to have another match."

The monks' eyes lit up.

(End of this chapter)