Chapter 150: Xu Qianfan

Amidst the swirling dust, gasps erupted from the crowd: "Xu Qianfan!"

The man was none other than Xu Qianfan, who had vanished several years ago.

Xuanfa checked his palm force, brought his palms together, and said, "Trust you have been well, benefactor Xu." Xu Qianfan had originally intended to keep his identity hidden, but things had reached this point, and he had no choice but to return the courtesy. "Master Xuanfa, let us speak no more of the past."

At that moment, understanding dawned upon Xuanfa. He sneered, "Benefactor Xu, you certainly harbor deep schemes! It turns out the person who broke into the Shaolin Temple's Scripture Pavilion years ago to steal the texts was you!"

The scriptures stolen by the masked intruder back then were actually forged. Xuanjing had compiled them by copying excerpts from the seventy-two supreme skills of Shaolin, and when it came to the chapter on the Great Demon-Subduing Pestle technique, Xuanfa himself had held the brush.

Having seen that Xu Qianfan was well-versed in the seventy-two arts yet had not cultivated them to the ultimate realm, he instantly realized that the thief from that day was undoubtedly Xu Qianfan. However, for this man to use sword-qi cultivation to mend the flaws in the techniques made him quite an extraordinary anomaly.

"Heh, wonderful!" Xuanfa sneered. "Your disciple stole the Tendon-Changing Classic, and you, his master, are even more audacious, going straight to Shaolin to plunder it. What a fine pair of thieving master and disciple!"

"Hmph," Xu Qianfan scoffed. "Your Shaolin Temple actually authored fake manuals to confound the public—how can that ever be the act of an upright and honorable sect! And now, joining forces with the lackeys of Cao Huabin to coerce the master of the Kunlun Sect, you make the heroes of the pugilistic world chill to the bone!"

Xuanfa said, "We are people of the martial world, and I cannot best you with mere words. How about we have a proper fight? If you lose, I will take you back to Shaolin for the Abbot to dispose of as he sees fit; if I lose, you may naturally depart in peace."

"That suits me precisely," Xu Qianfan replied. "However, this bout is a matter strictly between us. It is just you and me, and shall not involve any enmity between the Kunlun Sect and the Shaolin Temple." He knew full well that the Kunlun Sect had long since declined.

If the Kunlun Sect were dragged into a feud with the Shaolin Temple, it would likely collapse immediately under Shaolin's full-scale suppression. Therefore, he carefully restricted the conflict to himself and Xuanfa alone.

Xuanfa had not thought so deeply; his mind was entirely set on having a hearty, rousing fight with Xu Qianfan, capturing him, and handing him over to Xuanjing to redeem his own lost face within the Shaolin Temple. He nodded in immediate agreement.

Gazing lovingly at Lin Qingli, Xu Qianfan said, "Qingli, you have done well. It is a pity that you are a woman and cannot hold the post of sect master; otherwise... In the days to come when your master is no longer by your side, assist your Senior Brother Qingyuan diligently. Never let the disciples of the Kunlun Sect be bullied by others." Hot tears streamed down Lin Qingli's face. She dropped to her knees and kowtowed, saying, "Your disciple will engrave this in her heart. Master, please take good care of yourself." She knew that her situation differed from his. Although both had stolen Shaolin martial arts, her acquisition had been accidental, whereas Xu Qianfan had risked life and limb to break into Shaolin and seize them. Therefore, while the Shaolin Temple might turn a blind eye to her, they would never spare Xu Qianfan.

Now that his theft of the scriptures from Shaolin was known to the world, it was impossible for him to remain in the Kunlun Sect any longer; staying would only bring unwarranted disaster upon the sect.

Xu Qianfan turned, looked at Xuanfa, and said in a ringing voice, "Very well. Let us find a deserted spot and fight until the heavens turn upside down!"

With that, he let out a long whistle, leaped into the air, and with a shimmering of his figure, bounded away across a few bounds toward the distant blue mountains.

Xuanfa declared, "This matter is solely a grievance between this old monk and Xu Qianfan. Anyone who uses this opportunity to make trouble for the Kunlun Sect goes against me, Xuanfa!" Without another word, his figure soared into pursuit of Xu Qianfan, leaving Huizhu to cry out in frantic panic, "Uncle Master! Uncle Master!" How could Xuanfa possibly pay heed? A streak of gray shadow flashed across the horizon and vanished entirely from sight.

Du Xunqi sat as steady as a mountain, his vermilion brush moving across the paper: "...Lin Qingli was utterly exhausted, and Xuanfa moved to capture her. A man in green garments, his head shielded by a bamboo hat and his face veiled in thin gauze so his identity was initially unknown, abruptly intervened to save Lin Qingli. During his duel with Xuanfa, the seventy-two supreme skills of Shaolin were displayed in their entirety. Later, as the bamboo hat was knocked away, everyone realized this was none other than Xu Qianfan. Xuanfa brought up past events, and only then did I realize the mystery of the stolen scriptures at the Shaolin Temple years ago was indeed the work of Xu Qianfan. The two fought to a standstill and left to continue their battle elsewhere. I was unable to pursue them in time, and shall record the details upon further inquiry in days to come."

Everyone looked at each other in dismay, none daring to utter a sound. No one had anticipated that what was expected to be a routine ceremony would give rise to so many unforeseen twists. While Xu Qianfan and Xuanfa had been locked in fierce combat, Lin Qingli had found a tranquil spot to sit cross-legged and regulate her breath. The Tendon-Changing Classic accelerated power recovery with astonishing speed, and by now, she had recovered almost completely.

Lin Qingli let out a long breath, stood up, and said, "To think that the centenary memorial of Daoist Qingyun should be turned into such a state is truly lamentable. Fortunately, however, this disciple has not disgraced our founding master. I wonder what views everyone holds regarding the current sect master?"

The crowd chimed in unison, "What more is there to say? Just as Master Xu Qianfan stated earlier, he naturally trusts you completely. Since an elder of his stature has complete faith, what more could we possibly debate? Rest assured, with you assisting Sect Master Qingyuan, we will surely devote our utmost to the Kunlun Sect."

While they were all talking at once, someone suddenly burst through the entrance and shouted, "Hey! Why did you all start fighting like this?! If there's going to be a fight, you should at least wait until I get here! Coming all this way in such a rush, only to miss the whole spectacle!" There was an unmistakable tone of extreme grievance in his voice.

Huizhu looked over, his heart leaping with joy. The newcomer was none other than Tanqing.

Tanqing looked thoroughly disheveled; his monastic robes were filthy, his monk's cap was lost, and his bald head was covered in dust. Yet his complexion was as robust as ever, which set Huizhu's mind at ease. As long as this unpredictable Grand Uncle-Master returned safely to the Shaolin Temple to see the Abbot, he would have an easy account to give.

Huizhu hurried forward to bow to the eccentric Grand Uncle-Master, but Tanqing waved a hand dismissively and said, "Never mind all that! I just want to know why you didn't wait for me to arrive before starting the fight!" His tone suggested that everyone else starting the fight without waiting for him was somehow a grave injustice to him.

Furious, Lin Qingli demanded, "Who on earth are you? So high and mighty! Do you expect us to wait for your permission whenever we have a dispute that needs settling with force?!"

Tanqing looked displeased and retorted, "I am not anyone particularly grand, but it makes me unhappy when people start fighting without waiting for me!"

Angered to the point of laughter—having just survived a brush with death, she had long since grown indifferent to the boundary between life and death—Lin Qingli snapped, "Ha! You've arrived just in time, then! The least I can do is accompany you for a bout."

Tanqing was overjoyed, repeating eagerly, "Good, good! Let us have a fight." (To be continued...)