Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

Seeing this, Shen Gongbao shook his head and sighed, but a knowing smile remained on his lips: "Don't panic, little brother. My senior brother has had this habit for at least eight hundred years. He always tries to show off, act fierce, and pretend to be profound when newcomers are showing their faces, just for his own amusement—he only secretly rejoices when you think, 'These old guys are really not to be trifled with.'"

"Don't worry, just go for it. If you have to take risks, go for it; if you have to shoulder responsibilities, shoulder them. If you really can't hold on any longer, just call out, and the two of us will definitely stand by and do nothing."

As soon as he said that, the tangled anxiety in Lin Daochen's heart eased a little, and his shoulders felt lighter.

"Very well! I've taken note! I will give it my all this time; whether I succeed or not, I will personally report back to you two seniors!"

Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao exchanged a smile, then one picked up a fishing rod and the other a bamboo basket, and slowly strolled towards the riverbank. Their figures blended into the shimmering water and shadows of the trees, like two rooted green mountains, calm and reliable, giving people a sense of peace at first glance.

Sigh... How can we get over this hurdle? It turns out that people only truly develop resilience when they are pushed to the edge of a cliff.

But when you're on the edge of a cliff, who cares about building up your resilience? Most of the time, your legs go weak, your hands tremble, and your heart goes blank—Lin Daochen felt like an old string stretched taut by the wind, trembling so much that he could almost hear the buzzing before it snapped.

"Enough, enough, the more I think about it, the more confused I get. Instead of sitting here frowning, I should do something practical—there are so many ordinary people in the world right now, starving and struggling to survive, yet they don't even understand why they live. If I can transform the Dao into a lamp to light their way, then my efforts in cultivating this heart will not have been in vain."

"I have engraved every word of the teachings of my two predecessors in my heart. But right now, I must first remove the stone that is pressing on my chest—if I don't break it with my own hands, every step I take from now on will feel like walking on a knife's edge."

He knew better than anyone else that what stood in his way was not the immortal of Tianshan, but the dark shadow in his own heart that he dared not look directly at.

If one's inner demons are not eliminated, no matter how high one's cultivation level is, it is nothing more than a paper castle that can be blown down by a gust of cold wind.

He must first dismantle this mental prison before he can free up his hands to settle the old score that he will have to settle sooner or later.

In the following days, Lin Daochen found a desolate hill and sat cross-legged, preparing to calm his mind and focus his energy back to its origin.

He had intended to practice quietly, but his spiritual energy was now overflowing like mist. He had barely closed his eyes to regulate his breathing when a large group of figures surged towards him from the distant mountain path. Their footsteps shook the fallen leaves, causing them to tumble down. They were clearly coming for him.

Lin Daochen frowned slightly. He didn't want to be interrupted, but people had already gathered around him, and there was no use hiding anymore. He could only raise his eyes to meet their gaze: "You have come from afar. Is there something you want to ask? If so, please speak freely. There's no need for formalities."

Hundreds of people stopped in front of him in unison, their eyes fixed on his face as if trying to see through his skin to uncover some earth-shattering secret.

The group of people looked at each other, frozen in place for a long time, none of them daring to speak. Their posture was just like that of hooligans coming to cause trouble. Lin Daochen's brows furrowed, and his expression immediately turned cold.

Could they really be here to cause trouble? If so, Boss Qian is probably going to be furious. Since they're here to pick a fight, why should I bother being polite?

He cut to the chase: "If you've come here looking for trouble, turn around and leave now; I won't stop you. If you're looking to make friends, the leadership is always ready to welcome you."

Before the words were even finished, a burly man with a thick beard burst out from the crowd, his steps heavy and his voice booming so loudly it made the eaves tremble: "Stop pretending! Don't you know what despicable things you've done? A few days ago you massacred the people, leaving corpses strewn everywhere—today we're here to demand justice! Do you dare to accept?"

Lin Daochen was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter. So that's how it is—earlier, a group of people had indeed bullied and robbed others, and he had suppressed them, sealing them all within his sea of ​​consciousness. Rumors circulated that they were dead, which led this group to come knocking on his door, convinced that he had ruined their reputation.

But the truth is, those people lay perfectly fine deep within his consciousness, locked by layers of spiritual runes, not a single hair on their heads was harmed. That was his exclusive domain of consciousness, as stable as iron, unbreakable.

Seeing Lin Daochen's calm tone, the group straightened their backs, a smug look appearing on their faces: "You 'immortals' who spend your days puffing away at clouds and discussing metaphysics, you appear noble on the surface, but deep down you're all man-eating fangs! In your eyes, we mortals are less than dust, easily crushed into powder with a flick of your wrist!"

"We burned incense and kowtowed year after year, offering sacrifices without ceasing, only to be met with the annihilation of our entire family—such despicable methods are utterly disgusting!"

Lin Daochen was taken aback: Good heavens, so much resentment! But what did this have to do with him from beginning to end? He clearly hadn't laid a single sword in his hand, yet he was being unfairly blamed—wasn't this an undeserved disaster? Unwilling to take the blame without knowing why, he stepped forward and said in a calm tone: "Brothers, you must have heard the news of your family's 'death' before you stormed this place in anger."

But I must make this clear: none of your relatives are dead; they are merely temporarily residing within my consciousness, safe and sound. Gentlemen, shouldn't your anger subside?

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, speechless for a moment. What was this? A new scam? But Lin Daochen's gaze was open and honest, his expression seemingly genuine, which only made the crowd more flustered.

Lin Daochen said no more, walking straight to the leader, his voice as firm as metal: "I have no prior grudges against any of you, and today's events have nothing to do with me. Logically, I have no obligation to explain anything to you. However, considering your safety, I must protect you first—you came here seeking an explanation, didn't you?"

"Then let me tell you all clearly: I will not offer any explanation. Your relatives deliberately broke into the house and caused trouble. I have already shown leniency by not taking their lives."

"Your trespassing today is already an offense. Since I will not pursue the matter further, I will only consider it a lesson. If there is a next time—their fate will be a reflection of your own tomorrow."

He stood there, his presence as imposing as a mountain, each word piercing the air.

But the group opposite him paid no heed. Some sneered, some pointed and whispered, and others deliberately scratched their ears and picked their noses, all looking completely unconcerned. Lin Daochen's temple throbbed slightly, and he sighed inwardly: What a bunch of ignorant fools! Oh well, he was too lazy to waste his breath today.

He shook his head and turned to leave—arguing with these people would only lower himself. Since they insisted on being confused, then let them remain confused. Lin Daochen had no time to play along with this farce.

He's oversimplifying things.

As soon as Lin Daochen finished speaking, someone in the crowd lifted his eyelids, curled his lips into a sly and frivolous smile.

"Surely not, folks? Are you really planning to go on like this?" Lin Daochen frowned slightly, his tone tinged with a hint of probing. "Maybe... there's been a complete misunderstanding between us."

Before he could finish speaking, the people started chattering away.

"Brother, we all know you're an immortal, and your path of cultivation is definitely different from ours as mortals. But no matter how high you ascend to immortality, you still have human blood flowing through your veins! You won't even lend a hand when your own family is in trouble. How warm can your heart be?"

These words sounded like expressions of concern, but in reality, every sentence was loaded with hooks—Lin Daochen knew immediately that it was blatant moral blackmail.

He abruptly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the man like a knife, intending to intimidate him with his imposing presence. To his surprise, the other man not only didn't back down, but instead sneered, "Ha, quite the fierce look, huh? I was thinking of asking you for a hand, but your face is harder than an ice wall—forget it! Everyone has a few reliable friends. Losing one of you won't make the sky fall! I'd like to ask who gave us bad directions, forcing us to run into this mess!"

They showed no respect for Lin Daochen whatsoever; their eyes were filled with undisguised provocation, and some even secretly made hand gestures as if mocking a mute sparrow that couldn't retaliate.

Lin Daochen stood silently. What was the point of arguing? They were just unarmed mortals; they couldn't just crush these living beings in a fit of anger.

But his concession was seen by others as a sign of weakness and vulnerability. Seeing that he neither retorted nor moved, several of the bolder ones became even more audacious.

One of them, with short hair and sleeves rolled up to his forearms, stepped forward, his index finger almost poking Lin Daochen's nose: "What are you pretending to be so high and mighty for? Someone calls you an 'immortal,' and you actually think you're floating on clouds? Putting on airs here, don't you even look in the mirror—with your character, forget about being an immortal, even as a watchdog, your master would complain that you don't wag your tail enough!"

Before he finished speaking, he swung his arm and delivered a slap that came flying through the air, the force of the blow carrying humiliation and tyranny.

Lin Daochen stared at the approaching palm, his brows furrowing and a flash of fire in his eyes.

Just as his palm was about to touch the object, he flicked his fingertips, and a flash of silver light appeared—the barrier opened with a bang, like a copper wall crashing into an iron wall. The man's wrist snapped back on the spot, and his entire arm was cut in two with a "crack," hanging limply down.

The residual force of the barrier had not yet dissipated, causing him to stagger back three steps before collapsing to the ground.

Lin Daochen threw his head back and laughed, a clear and melodious laugh that startled everyone into shrinking back. What seemed like an ordinary response to him appeared to the common people as a demon's snarl and a demon's appearance.

The man who had led the group earlier had his expression change several times in an instant: surprise, doubt, panic, fear, and finally, a look of almost absurd astonishment—as if he was seeing clearly for the first time what this "immortal" really looked like.

"Hey! You...you dare to lay a hand on me?!" His voice trembled as he forced a shout, "Are you even a newbie? Instead of honestly telling everyone how you cultivated yourself, you resort to violence? This kind of trash dares to call himself an immortal? Bah!"

The spittle had barely reached the air when Lin Daochen dodged to the side, his anger surging within him, yet he ultimately held back.

All of this was already seen by a pair of eyes high in the sky.

The Heavenly Emperor stood with his hands behind his back at the end of the cloud steps, the scene transmitted through his Thousand-Mile Eyes as clear as if it were right before his eyes. He looked at the restrained coldness on Lin Daochen's face, and the corners of his lips slightly raised: "This kid... has improved."

The hot-tempered young man who used to explode at the slightest provocation can now suppress his temper and observe the situation calmly.

"Yes, he has indeed made progress," he said in a low voice. "Once his cultivation level is more stable, it would be only natural to bestow upon him a divine position."

Beside him, Thousand-Mile Eye and Wind-Following Ear looked at each other, their expressions a mixture of surprise and envy.

"Your Majesty! You're really going to bestow a divine title upon this lad? The positions of gods in the Heavenly Court are incredibly precious—many renowned immortals and powerful shamans who have guarded their regions have knelt for three years without ever receiving a single title!"

Upon hearing this, the Heavenly Emperor merely glanced at the two of them, his smile gentle and deep: "You two have followed me for so many years, yet you still don't understand why I chose him?"

"This was not a decision I made on my own, but a decision made after summoning all the celestial beings of the Heavenly Court, weighing the pros and cons repeatedly, and discussing it from multiple perspectives—look at him now, does he deserve the title of 'celestial'?"

The all-seeing eye and the all-hearing ear exchanged a glance and silently nodded.