Killing Monks

The abbot of the small Buddhist temple stood to one side, fiddling with his prayer beads, his expression complex. He simply looked at Guangyuan, lost in thought.

Guangyuan ignored them.

His vision was completely dark, with countless golden stars dancing in his field of vision.

His meridians were tearing apart inch by inch, his internal organs were bleeding, and his vital energy was almost exhausted. He knew he had reached his limit.

Anyone who hits him again will surely die.

Fortunately, he held on.

He killed Wu Ming.

He intimidated the others.

But this is only temporary.

Wu Ming is dead, but Xu Jin has already gone back to get reinforcements. His injuries are too severe.

We have to go.

We must act swiftly and leave Qujiang County immediately!

He killed the people from the Nine Dragons Martial Academy. Wouldn't the Nine Dragons Martial Academy go crazy?

The people in front of him had already appeared in the Mirror of Karma in his arms. If they had any other ideas, Guangyuan wouldn't mind letting them go crazy at this moment.

He turned his head to look at Hu Dafu, the mute man. His anxious face was streaked with tears.

"Go pack your things," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "We're going to Luoqing County. We can't stay here any longer."

Hu Dafu nodded frantically, released his arm, and turned to run into the temple. After running a couple of steps, he looked back at him, afraid that he would fall.

Seeing that he could still stand, they continued running.

Guangyuan turned to Lin Guangcai.

"Come here."

Lin Guangcai was stunned for a moment, then quickly stepped forward.

Guangyuan raised his blood-stained hand and placed it on his shoulder.

He used almost all his strength, and with a gentle pull, the two wisps of true energy were drawn from Lin Guangcai's body and returned to his own body through his palm.

"Next time I return to Qujiang County, I will take back your thousand acres of land, and also the things your son did this time!"

Lin Guangcai felt a sense of lightness throughout his body, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

He let out a long breath, looking at the young man in front of him, who was covered in blood but still stood straight, with a very complicated expression in his eyes.

He was truly convinced.

To make enemies of such young people? Are the Lin family out of their minds?

He clasped his hands tightly and bowed deeply.

"When the Master comes again, the entire Lin family will certainly give him a warm welcome."

Guangyuan did not answer.

He simply nodded, then turned to the abbot of the small Buddhist temple.

The old monk paused, his hand holding the prayer beads still.

Guangyuan looked at him, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth revealing a somewhat eerie smile.

"Abbot," his voice was hoarse, "would you like to try my current methods?"

He paused.

"Maybe one punch from you and I'll be dead."

The abbot's expression changed.

Then he shook his head repeatedly, his face beaming with a smile more genuine than ever before.

"Junior brother is joking, joking."

Guangyuan did not laugh.

"Then I'll go out and seek refuge for a while," he said. "I'll temporarily entrust the thirty acres of land and the Prajna Temple to the abbot's care."

He paused.

"Give those thirty acres of land to the two families to cultivate. Don't charge them a single penny of rent, and don't make them do any corvée labor."

The abbot nodded quickly.

"This is easy to handle. Our temple is exempt from corvée labor, which is a special permission granted by the emperor. Don't worry, junior brother."

Guangyuan nodded.

Just then, Hu Dafu ran out of the temple carrying two bundles, one large and one small. He carried the large one on his back and was about to hand the small one to Guangyuan.

Guangyuan did not accept the call.

He simply reached out and put his hand on Hu Dafu's shoulder.

"Walk."

The two of them left just like that.

One was covered in blood and swaying precariously.

A thin, hunched figure carrying two bundles on his back.

They walked slowly, step by step.

They slowly disappeared from everyone's sight.

No one dared to stop them, and no one dared to make a move.

They left the group's sight and headed towards a secluded spot. After walking quite a distance, Guangyuan stopped.

He released his hand from Hu Dafu's shoulder and slowly sat down against an old tree. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and let his surging blood and qi slowly calm down.

Hu Dafu squatted down beside him, not daring to make a sound, only looking at him with his eyes full of worry.

After a long time, Guangyuan opened his eyes.

He rummaged through his bundle and pulled out a clean set of clothes, then put on the prepared fake beard, wig, and applied styling products, transforming himself as if he had a completely different face.

Hu Dafu stared at him with wide eyes, making "ah ah" sounds, his face full of disbelief.

At this time, Guangyuan learned some tricks in the martial arts world.

He crumpled the blood-stained old monk's robe into a ball, soaked it in the roadside ditch, and then buried it in the nearby weeds. He buried it deep, tamped it down, and covered it with some withered branches and leaves.

After doing all that, he straightened up and looked at the sky.

The sun was already setting in the west; it would be gone in another hour or two.

He turned to Hu Dafu.

"Let's not go to Luoqing County," he said. "Let's go to the Buddhist Kingdom of Southern Tang."

In order to evade the pursuers from the Kowloon Martial Arts Academy, Guangyuan did the opposite.

Didn't he and Hu Dafu take advantage of the darkness and sneak along the side streets?

He was seriously injured, so he bought a donkey cart nearby.

He was driving the cart, sitting in the back of the donkey cart, while Hu Dafu was sitting with the miscellaneous items.

The donkey cart moved at a moderate pace, blending into the flow of traffic leaving the city, completely inconspicuous.

At the city gate, several martial artists dressed in tight-fitting clothes and with muscular bodies were checking passersby.

Guangyuan wore a wig and half a straw hat. His skin was smeared with medicine, making it dark with a reddish tinge. He gently lashed the donkey's back with a whip.

The carriage rumbled past the martial artists.

A martial artist's gaze swept over.

He saw that the driver was a farmer, and then glanced into the truck bed.

Inside was another person with messy hair and a face covered in dust, clearly a poor, miserable man.

He's not bald.

He wasn't dressed as a monk either.

The martial artist withdrew his gaze and waved his hand.

The donkey cart continued forward and exited the city gate.

The carriage had been traveling for an hour when it began to get dark.

Qujiang County has been left far behind, and the roadsides have gradually turned into wilderness, with only a few farmhouses scattered in the fields.

Guangyuan's back was always ramrod straight.

But his face grew paler and paler.

Cold sweat soaked his back, and his hand gripping the whip trembled like a withered leaf in the wind. His vision blurred, the sounds around him grew fainter, and the whole world seemed to spin.

He gritted his teeth and persevered for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

"You...drive the car!"

His voice was barely audible as he shakily stood up, leaning on the donkey cart.

Hu Dafu quickly jumped out of the car and helped him up.

Guangyuan's body was as limp as a lump of mud, and he only managed to stay upright thanks to Hu Dafu's support. Hu Dafu helped him to the side of the truck bed, and Guangyuan climbed in, lying on his back on the rough wooden planks.

As soon as I lay down, everything went completely black.

He fell into a coma.

Hu Dafu looked at the pale face, the blood still seeping from the corner of the mouth, and the barely perceptible rise and fall of the chest.

He tried to shout, but no sound came out.

He wanted to cry, but tears streamed down his face first.

But he can't stop.

He wiped away his tears, climbed onto the carriage shaft, and grabbed the whip.

He can't drive. But he has to.

The donkey cart resumed its journey, slowly moving forward along the official road. Hu Dafu would occasionally glance back at the motionless person in the cart bed, then quickly turn his head back to stare at the road ahead.

There's nothing he can do.

But he can't stop.