Yang Guo travels back in time to become Duan Yu, a different kind of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.

After exchanging pleasantries, Kumārajīva finally revealed his purpose. Kumārajīva had once received a favor from Murong Bo, and now that Murong Bo had passed away, he wanted to fulfill his last wish by burning the Six Meridians Divine Sword Manual at Murong Bo's grave.

To show his sincerity, Kumārajīva specially presented the essentials, training methods, and countermeasures of the 72 Shaolin Arts.

Upon hearing this, Yang Guo was startled. He secretly glanced around and noticed that the masters seemed to be interested in something. He couldn't help but think to himself, "This is bad."

Kumārajīva's suggestion really had the flavor of getting something for nothing. The Seventy-Two Arts belonged to Shaolin, not to their Great Snow Mountain Great Wheel Temple. Of course, they could be generous with other people's money, since they wouldn't lose anything anyway.

Even more insidious is the possibility that if the people from Tianlong Temple were to use Shaolin martial arts and be discovered by the people from Shaolin Temple, they would be utterly humiliated and unable to explain themselves no matter how hard they tried.

It seems that this Kumārajīva is not sincere. If he were truly sincere, he should have offered his own skills in exchange.

Just as Yang Guo was about to speak up to remind him, he saw Kumārajīva already demonstrating Shaolin Kung Fu.

First, he made a finger flick, gently placing his right thumb and forefinger together as if holding a flower, a smile on his face. Then, he flicked his left hand to the right. His fingers moved with exquisite gentleness, each flick as if to brush away dew from the flower in his right hand, yet as if afraid of shaking off the petals. His face remained kind and smiling, showing deep understanding.

After flicking his fingers dozens of times, he raised his right sleeve, opened his mouth, and blew on it. Instantly, pieces of cloth the size of chess pieces floated down from the sleeve, revealing dozens of holes. It turned out that his dozens of finger flicks had all been done by lightly touching his sleeve in mid-air. The gentle force damaged the fabric, making it appear perfectly fine at first glance, but the wind revealed the extent of his skill.

Next came the Dorothea finger strike. He spun around the wooden crate on the ground, his ten fingers moving rapidly. Wood chips flew and bounced all over the crate, and in an instant, the crate was reduced to pieces.

Kumārajīva continued his movements, tucking his hands into his sleeves. In the midst of his attack, the pile of wood chips suddenly began to fly and leap, as if someone were constantly stirring and prodding them with an invisible thin rod.

Yang Guo recognized it as the Formless Finger. He had heard his friend, Zen Master Wuse, talk about these three martial arts before. When practiced to their peak, they were in no way inferior to the One-Finger Divine Skill of Dali.

Master Wuse was more skilled in fist and palm techniques. Yang Guo originally thought he would never have the chance to see the three finger techniques, but unexpectedly he saw them at Tianlong Temple.

This Tibetan monk is truly not to be underestimated. Just looking at these three skills, he has already reached a high level, and his skills are no less than those of the Golden Wheel Monk.

Seeing that Benyin and the others were somewhat tempted, Master Kurong spoke up. After exchanging ideas with Benyin and the others, they quickly pulled themselves out of the allure of the Seventy-Two Shaolin Arts.

"We haven't even mastered our own One-Finger Divine Skill properly, so what use are other people's martial arts manuals? Your Majesty has come from afar and has had a long journey. Please allow our temple to prepare a vegetarian feast to welcome you."

This means that the request from the Wheel King was rejected.

Just as Benyin was about to see his guests off, Kumo threatened the diplomatic relations between Dali and Tubo, claiming that this would ruin the harmony between the two countries.

Yang Guo, standing to the side, thought to himself, "Just as I thought. The Tibetan national teacher, whether now or more than a hundred years later, has always been the same in his refusal to accept anything less than a face."

In Yang Guo's opinion, Master Kurong didn't need to waste so much time talking to Kumārajīva. He could have just given him a fake sword manual, just like Uncle Guo and Aunt Guo did to their adoptive father Ouyang Feng.

It can't all be fake. Seven parts real and three parts fake, or even nine parts real and one part fake, are all acceptable. You must know that kung fu, especially advanced martial arts, is no different from other skills. A difference of just one word can lead to qi deviation or even death. Not everyone has the skills of the Western Poison Master, who managed to cultivate a peerless divine skill by practicing the Nine Yin Manual in reverse.

The high moral standards of the monks at Tenryu-ji Temple are still too high.

Upon hearing Kumārajīva's threat of war, Benyin and the others' expressions changed. In their view, Kumārajīva was the national teacher of Tibet, and everyone in Tibet, from the king down, believed in Buddhism, making it no different from Dali. Kumārajīva had always been trusted by the king, and whether to make peace or go to war could mostly be decided by his word.

Kumārajīva's statement, "My Tibetan king has long admired the customs and culture of Dali and has long desired to hunt with your king in Dali," was a blatant threat.

Yang Guo, however, saw things differently. Over the past sixteen years, he had made numerous trips to the former Tibetan territories. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to capture Darba alive as a birthday gift for Guo Xiang before her birthday. His understanding of Tantric Buddhism was far greater than that of Ben Yin and the others.

"Master, you threaten us with weapons at every turn! Anyone who didn't know better would think you were the King of Tibet!" Yang Guo stepped forward and said, "Don't tell me you're not the King of Tibet. Even if you were, do you think Dali is afraid of you? Don't forget, Dali has been a vassal state of the Song Dynasty for generations. If war breaks out, the Song Dynasty will stand up for Dali. And then there's the Western Xia Kingdom. Although it's small, it's always been warlike. If Dali were willing to spend some money and offer some benefits to Western Xia, they might even send troops. If the three kingdoms join forces, do you think the King of Tibet would push Master out to take the fall?"

Yang Guo continued, "Major national affairs involve many factors and may not be as easy as I have described. However, as far as I know, Tibet is located on the Western Plateau and does not produce salt or iron. Half of the salt needed in the country comes from Dali. At that time, without even going to war, Dali only needs to cut off trade with Tibet, and Tibet will live a life without edible salt or usable iron. And all of this is caused by your selfishness, Master."

"Master, don't forget, Tantric Buddhism isn't just about your Great Snow Mountain Temple. Other sects are probably just waiting to see you make a fool of yourself!"

Yang Guo's last words weren't meant to scare Kumārajīva; they were the truth. For one thing, the Vajra Sect, where the Golden Wheel Monk resided, had always been at odds with Kumārajīva's Great Wheel Temple. If Kumārajīva's words from Dali were embellished and relayed back, the Vajra Sect would surely be happy to kick him while he was down.

Kumārajīva was merely using someone else's name to intimidate others; he never expected so many twists and turns. While he spoke eloquently about martial arts and Buddhism, when it came to matters of state and national importance, his abilities were far inferior to those of the Golden Wheel Monk.

Kumārajīva was immediately intimidated by Yang Guo. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Yang Guo's words made sense. If this matter led to the alliance of the three kingdoms sending troops to Tibet, it would be extremely bad.

Kumārajīva was somewhat embarrassed. In fact, Yang Guo's words had completely moved him. However, it was really shameful to have come to Tianlong Temple in such a grand manner only to return in such a disgraceful manner.

When one plan failed, Kumārajīva devised another, uttering vile words that belittled the Six Meridians Divine Sword as nothing more than a peasant's trick. The high monks of Tianlong Temple, naturally unwilling to tolerate such empty boasts, finally decided to engage in a contest.

In the martial arts world, true skill is ultimately determined by one's own actions.