Martial Arts Crossover: My Master is Huang Rong

Yang Guo and Xiaolongnu both looked curious, and Yang Guo couldn't help but ask, "Brother Lin, is there anything else?"

Lin Xuan's expression turned solemn. He bowed deeply to Xiaolongnu, his tone becoming extremely sincere, even carrying a hint of barely perceptible pleading:

"To be honest, Miss Long, my name is Lin Xuan, and my ancestors were also surnamed Lin. My elders once said that my lineage and your sect's founder, Senior Lin Chaoying, are of the same lineage and origin, but we were separated and scattered due to the war back then."

"I came here not only because I cannot disobey my master's orders, but also because I want to visit the ancient tomb, pay homage to the relics of my ancestors, and fulfill their last wish!"

These words were like a thunderbolt from the blue!

Yang Guo and Xiaolongnu were completely stunned.

Little Dragon Girl grew up in the Ancient Tomb and knew very little about the outside world and her own family background. She only knew that Lin Chaoying was her ancestor, who was a peerless martial artist and had a legendary past with Wang Chongyang of the Quanzhen Sect.

And this man in front of me actually claimed to be a "relative" of the Ancestral Master.

This is simply unbelievable!

"You...you really have a connection with the patriarch?"

A hint of surprise and confusion finally surfaced on Xiaolongnu's usually indifferent face.

Lin Xuan's eyes were incredibly sincere; he knew this was a crucial moment. He didn't launch into a long, detailed account of his "family history," as that would be easily exposed. Instead, he chose the method most likely to move Xiaolongnu—emotion and story.

"This is absolutely true, and I would never dare to deceive Miss Long."

Lin Xuan's voice was deep, with a hint of reminiscence, as if he were truly recounting stories told by his ancestors.

“My ancestors once mentioned that Senior Lin Chaoying appeared aloof and detached, but in reality, she was quite arrogant. When she competed with Senior Wang Chongyang, she seemed to be competitive at every turn, but in fact, she had a deeper meaning that was unknown to others.”

“My ancestors said that in order to encourage Senior Wang Chongyang to work hard, Senior Lin deliberately lost to him by half a move in martial arts, and then used the same method against him to win this Tomb of the Living Dead.”

Lin Xuan portrayed Lin Chaoying as more three-dimensional and human, no longer the aloof symbol who only lived in legend.

“Our ancestors also said that Senior Lin did not spend her days in asceticism in the ancient tomb. She also raised a flock of pure white pigeons. Every morning, when the pigeons flew in the tomb, she would talk to these spirits. She would even show a rare smile when an unnamed flower bloomed in the crack of the stone or when a mountain breeze blew in from the tomb entrance.”

Lin Xuan then fabricated some anecdotes about Lin Chaoying, details that no outsider could possibly know.

His tone was full of reverence and affection for that legendary ancestor, which left Xiaolongnu and Yang Guo stunned.

Yang Guo listened with great interest. He imagined that the aloof and stunningly beautiful patriarch had such a lively and vivid side, which completely overturned his understanding of her.

Although Xiaolongnu's expression was not outwardly visible, her clear eyes were filled with turmoil.

She didn't know much about her founder, only about her martial arts skills and her feud with the Quanzhen Sect.

Hearing Lin Xuan's words, those trivial yet humane details, she felt that her ancestor was no longer an unattainable legend, but a real, flesh-and-blood woman who could laugh and joke.

This made her believe Lin Xuan's words to a great extent.

Seeing that the time was ripe, Lin Xuan continued:

"I have come here not for the tranquility of the ancient tomb, nor do I dare to harbor any covetous thoughts. I only hope to stay in the ancient tomb for a few days, to pay homage to the relics of the elder Lin Chaoying, and to feel the legacy of my ancestors. This would fulfill one of my wishes, so that I can go back and report to my ancestors."

"Once I have fulfilled my wish, I will leave immediately and will not disturb Miss Long and Brother Yang's peaceful cultivation."

He transformed the "visit" into a "pilgrimage," making his purpose sound incredibly simple and filial.

Xiaolongnu remained silent for a moment.

She looked at Lin Xuan and once again felt the profound yet restrained aura of inner strength emanating from him.

This aura made her feel inexplicably comfortable and close.

She couldn't sense Lin Xuan's sinister intentions; she only felt that his words were sincere and his respect for the patriarch was heartfelt.

The opportunity to get close to the ancestral site and even hear more stories about the ancestral master from those who were "close" to him was a great temptation for her.

Finally, her gaze fell on Lin Xuan, and her usually cold voice seemed to have gained a touch of humanity.

"Since you are a descendant of the patriarch's old friend, then let's stay here. The ancient tomb is simple, but it is enough for temporary accommodation."

"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Long!"

Lin Xuan's face showed gratitude.

Chapter Nine: Days in the Ancient Tomb

The environment of the ancient tomb was hardly desirable.

The air is humid, and there is no sunlight all year round.

Lin Xuan's arrival was like a ray of sunshine squeezing into the crevices of the mountains.

He took the initiative and, in just a few days, he had thoroughly explored all the winding passages in the ancient tomb.

Yang Guo, who was initially somewhat wary of Lin Xuan, gradually became familiar with him.

For a teenager like Yang Guo, life in the Ancient Tomb was an endless torment.

Grandma Sun's death was a wound in his heart that had not yet healed.

His master, the woman he called "Auntie," was so beautiful she seemed unreal, but she was also as cold as ice.

He respected her, but he was also afraid of her.

When I try to say something heartfelt to her, I usually get a faint look and a two-word response in return.

That sense of distance can freeze any youthful enthusiasm into a block of ice.

Every day consists of two things: practicing martial arts and staring blankly at the wall.

Lin Xuan's appearance was like a warm breeze carrying the scent of everyday life, blowing away the suffocating atmosphere.

He was more than just a playmate; he was like an older brother who knew everything.

That afternoon, Yang Guo was practicing his martial arts in the stone chamber, his forehead soaked with sweat. Lin Xuan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, laughing.

"Brother Yang, your palm technique is quite good."

“It’s a pity,” he changed the subject, “their strength is too rigid. They only know how to use brute force to rush forward, completely wasting the essence of the Ancient Tomb Sect’s martial arts: lightness, agility, skill, and change.”

Upon hearing this, Yang Guo abruptly stopped, a lump forming in his throat, his face filled with resentment.

He's a stubborn person by nature, having grown up being looked down upon by others, and deep down he doesn't respect anyone.

He raised an eyebrow and stiffened his neck: "My palm technique was personally taught to me by my aunt, it's incredibly powerful! One strike can leave a mark on a stone, what's wrong with that?"

Although he admired Lin Xuan's martial arts skills immensely, the young man was unwilling to admit defeat.

Lin Xuan looked at his flustered little face, but wasn't angry; he just laughed. Arguing with a kid was pointless; a direct confrontation was the most effective.

He slowly walked over, bent down and picked up a small pebble, about the size of a fingernail, from the ground. He held it between two fingers and said to Yang Guo:

"Okay."

He had barely finished speaking when he flicked his finger.

"Whoosh!" A soft sound.

The pebble didn't fly very fast, it even seemed a bit slow, but in Yang Guo's eyes it was eerily frightening.

The pebble traced an arc in the air, as if guided by an invisible hand, spiraling around a small bend, and struck the very rock face he had just patted.

"Snap!" A crisp sound.

The stone wall, which was hard enough to withstand Yang Guo's full-force palm strike, was actually drilled with a round hole about the depth of a finger joint by this small stone!

The hole was perfectly round, without a single crack on the side, as if it had been drilled.

Yang Guo's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

He rubbed his eyes, leaned over and poked the hole with his finger. The cool, smooth touch of his fingertip made his heart skip a beat, stirring up a huge wave of emotions.

He used all his strength in that palm strike, yet it only left a faint, blurry mark on the wall—it was a hard blow.

But Lin Xuan's seemingly light flick was actually a twist of force into a needle!

The penetrating power and destructive force are simply on a different level.

One is a heavy iron hammer, the other a sharp steel needle. The difference in quality is immediately apparent.

"See?" Lin Xuan's gentle voice sounded behind him. "Martial arts training is not about how strong you are, but about whether you use your strength in the right place and whether it is 'pure' enough."

He walked over to Yang Guo and patted him on the shoulder:

"That palm strike of yours looked fierce, but 70% of its full force dissipated halfway through its trajectory. If you could concentrate that full force into a single rope and thrust it out at a single point, do you think the power would be several times greater?"

These words were like a thunderbolt, directly cleaving through the fog in Yang Guo's heart.

He turned around abruptly, all his previous arrogance gone: "Brother Lin, then... how can we 'twist our efforts into one rope'?"

Seeing his eagerness to learn, Lin Xuan smiled with satisfaction, but instead of teaching him directly, he kept him in suspense.

“This can’t be rushed. You’re still young and inexperienced. Your understanding of martial arts is still limited to fighting and killing. Come on, let me tell you what the world outside this ancient tomb is really like…”

He pulled Yang Guo to sit down on the stone bench and began to tell him about the outside world.

He spoke of Qiao Feng, the leader of the Northern Beggars' Clan, whose Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms were so powerful that even ghosts and gods would retreat in fear. He was a man of great courage and loyalty, and everyone in the martial arts world respected him as "Chief Qiao"!

He spoke of Zhang Sanfeng, the immortal master of Wudang Mountain, who was over a hundred years old, possessed unparalleled martial arts skills, and had not left Wudang for many years. The entire martial arts world revered him as a living immortal.

Lin Xuan's eloquence was superb; he described the world of martial arts in vivid detail.

Yang Guo, a naive and inexperienced young man, was thrilled and eager to hear this.

He couldn't wait to rush out of this dilapidated grave and see the world Lin Xuan had described!

Within a few days, the two were on very good terms, calling each other brothers and acting as if they were one person.

Lin Xuan had his own way of dealing with Xiaolongnu.

He knew that any sweet talk would be blasphemous and would only disgust her if used to deal with a girl who seemed so detached from worldly concerns.

He never disturbed her practice, nor did he show off in front of her.

He would calculate the time she would spend practicing the Jade Maiden Heart Sutra every day, find a clean stone not far from her jade bed where she practiced, sit down, close his eyes, and quietly regulate his breathing.

At first, Xiaolongnu ignored him. In her world, there was only her master's teachings and martial arts practice.

But as time went on, she gradually discovered something strange.

As long as this man was sitting nearby, the chilling aura that had always made her feel even when she was sleeping seemed to lessen a bit.

A warmth, unlike anything I'd ever felt before, would rise from my previously icy body, like the gentlest winter sun, incredibly comforting, and even making my internal energy flow much more smoothly.

This was obviously Lin Xuan's doing.

The Yin-Yang Supplementing Technique he practiced, with its pure Yang energy, was like a fire in the darkness to Xiaolongnu, who slept on the cold jade bed year-round; it had an instinctive attraction to her.

"Miss Dragon."

That day, just as Little Dragon Girl got up from her cold jade bed, Lin Xuan suddenly opened his eyes and called out to her.

Little Dragon Girl came to look when she heard the sound.

She wore a pure white dress, spotless, which made her skin appear even whiter and more delicate.

Her figure was slender and graceful, with exquisite curves. Her slender waist was bound by a simple white cloth belt, making it appear even more delicate. Below that was a soft and beautiful arc.

Yet her aloof and ethereal temperament completely concealed her feminine beauty, making her like an exquisite ice sculpture that could only be admired from afar, pure and inviolable.

Her eyes, so clear and cold that they remained unmoved, like two obsidian stones immersed in a cold pool, finally looked at him formally for the first time, with a hint of inquiry.

Lin Xuan met her gaze and slowly said, "The martial arts of the Ancient Tomb Sect are exquisite, especially their swordsmanship, which is first-rate in the world. But in my opinion, it seems... something is still missing."

"What is missing?"

Xiaolongnu's voice was like jade beads falling on an ice plate—crisp, pleasant, but cold. She was extremely proud of her sect's martial arts and wouldn't allow anyone to utter a single word of criticism.

Lin Xuan ignored her coldness and continued, "The martial arts of the Ancient Tomb Sect are all designed to counter the Quanzhen Sect. Therefore, the moves always carry a sense of resentment. This 'resentment' is the root of this martial art, but it has also become its greatest cage."

He noticed the slight change in Xiaolongnu's eyes, and his voice deepened:

"The way of martial arts is about practicing techniques and achieving a state of mind. If a martial art is fundamentally about spite, its achievements will ultimately be limited, and those who practice it will never reach the highest level. What do you think, Miss Long?"

These words struck Xiaolongnu's heart like a hammer blow.

She had practiced martial arts since childhood, learning one move at a time from her master, never imagining there were so many intricacies behind the moves. Lin Xuan's words were like a boulder thrown into the calm lake of her heart.

She looked at Lin Xuan, carefully examining the man. Not only was his martial arts skill high, but his understanding of martial arts was also so profound.

From that day on, Lin Xuan would occasionally chat with Xiaolongnu about martial arts. He never gave her any pointers, but rather asked her questions like a friend.

"What if you encounter a brute force ten times stronger than you when you're surrounded by a net of heaven and earth?"

These questions opened a new door for Xiaolongnu. She began to rethink the martial arts she had practiced for over a decade.

Although her clear, cold eyes still held little emotion, a subtle new sense of trust and curiosity, unnoticed even by herself, had quietly crept into beneath the icy lake.