Flower Stealing Master

Even someone as composed as Zhang Sanfeng couldn’t help but feel slightly irritated. In the past, although he had served Master Jueyuan at the Shaolin Temple, it was merely as a menial worker sweeping floors and brewing tea. He had neither taken monastic vows nor formally become a disciple, so it was inaccurate to label him as a Shaolin disciple. The martial arts of the Wudang Sect were entirely of his own later creation. Yet, the Shaolin Temple consistently claimed that he had stolen their martial arts, tarnishing the reputation of Wudang’s martial legacy.

However, Zhang Sanfeng was an easy-going individual. He also remembered that without Master Jueyuan passing on the ‘Nine Yang Scripture’ to him, all his subsequent martial arts achievements would have lacked a foundation. In a way, it wasn’t entirely wrong to say his martial arts originated from Shaolin.

But no matter how magnanimous he was, he couldn’t ignore Shaolin’s repeated mockery. Hearing Xuan Cheng’s thinly veiled ridicule, Zhang Sanfeng felt a flicker of anger. He replied calmly, “Although this poor Taoist doesn’t know much about Shaolin’s 72 Ultimate Techniques, all martial arts share a common principle. Over the years, I’ve created my own set of techniques. If Master is interested, our two sects could exchange pointers and perhaps benefit from mutual enlightenment.”

Xuan Cheng was slightly startled. His intention was merely to probe Zhang Sanfeng’s true skill, but the latter elevated the matter to a discussion between sects, making it difficult for him to accept lightly. Although Xuan Cheng prided himself as the greatest martial artist Shaolin had seen in over two centuries, Zhang Sanfeng was regarded as a near-mythical figure in the martial world. Xuan Cheng had no absolute confidence in victory, and losing would disgrace Shaolin’s reputation.

Yet Xuan Cheng, adept in mastering thirteen of Shaolin’s ultimate skills, was far from foolish. He quickly devised a plan and said loudly, “An exchange between Shaolin and Wudang would indeed be beneficial. However, as a senior figure in the martial world, if you face only one junior, it would neither enhance your reputation nor achieve the purpose of our exchange. Why not have my brother Fang Zheng, Junior Brother Xu Zhu, and I seek your guidance together?”

Xuan Cheng was known for his pride and would never normally condescend to join forces with others. But Zhang Sanfeng’s fame was too overwhelming. Although he believed he could hold his own against Zhang Sanfeng, Shaolin’s reputation was at stake, and he preferred to err on the side of caution.

Fang Zheng hesitated slightly. While he felt that ganging up was dishonorable, Shaolin monks had long been curious about the extent of Zhang Sanfeng’s skills. Yet, Zhang rarely left his mountain, and any Wudang matters in the martial world were handled by his disciples. This rare opportunity was too precious to miss, and Fang Zheng didn’t want to pass it up.

As for Xu Zhu, the chance to spar with a legend like Zhang Sanfeng thrilled him. He was more than eager to participate.

Seeing the three monks’ tacit agreement, Song Qingshu grew furious, “What a shameless Shaolin Temple, relying on numbers to bully the few! If you insist on seniority, then you two masters are also my elders. In that case, I will assist Esteemed Zhang. Surely, you have no objections to that?”

From Song Qingshu’s perspective, whether it was Xuan Cheng, Fang Zheng, or Xu Zhu, they were among the top-tier martial artists in the martial world. With his current skills, he could handle one of them without issue. Facing two might push him to his limits, but going up against three would leave him no choice but to flee. Though Zhang Sanfeng was immensely skilled, he was over a hundred years old. If anything went wrong mid-battle…

Xuan Cheng sneered. “With Esteemed Zhang’s status in the martial world, how could he stoop to teaming up against opponents?”

Song Qingshu wanted to argue further, but Zhang Sanfeng smiled gently. “Thank you for your kind intentions, young friend. However, it won’t be so easy for the three of them to defeat me.”

Song Qingshu was momentarily stunned. Judging by Zhang Sanfeng’s tone, it seemed he didn’t take the three monks’ combined efforts seriously, which left Song Qingshu deeply astonished. “I spoke out of turn. Please, Esteemed Zhang, proceed.”

Xuan Cheng, however, also felt slighted and was secretly annoyed. He said coldly, “If that’s the case, pardon my offense!” With that, his monk’s robe billowed as he turned into a crimson streak, launching an attack toward Zhang Sanfeng.

Fang Zheng and Xu Zhu exchanged glances but didn’t join in immediately. They trusted Xuan Cheng’s abilities and decided to let him probe Zhang Sanfeng’s strength first.

As Xuan Cheng’s palm strike neared, a fierce gust of wind swept through, lifting clouds of yellow sand into the air. Even those not directly targeted by the attack were forced to retreat under the residual force of his palm strike.

Ren Yingying let out a soft cry, instinctively burying her face in Song Qingshu’s chest to shield herself from the flying sand. 

Catching a whiff of her faint fragrance, Song Qingshu unexpectedly felt a surge of goodwill toward Xuan Cheng: ‘What an excellent wingman, this monk!’

Suddenly, Wu Yunzhu cried out in alarm. Song Qingshu turned to see her stumbling backward. Unwilling to see her delicate face harmed by the ground, he extended his other arm like an ape and caught her slender waist, pulling her close. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

“Thank you, big brother,” Wu Yunzhu said, her face slightly flushed. Mimicking Ren Yingying, she rested her head on Song Qingshu’s arm.

Meanwhile, Ah Zi was protected by You Tanzhi, who had stepped in front of her to block the wind and sand. Naturally, Song Qingshu didn’t need to worry about her. However, Ah Zi wasn’t the least bit grateful. Instead, she sulked inwardly: ‘Hmph, that oaf! I was planning to fall into the young master’s arms, but you ruined everything and let that little girl take advantage!’  

Oblivious to the women’s thoughts, Song Qingshu focused intently on the fight. Though he trusted Zhang Sanfeng’s abilities, Xuan Cheng was no ordinary martial artist.

As Xuan Cheng’s imposing strike approached, Zhang Sanfeng stood still, smiling serenely. He didn’t dodge or evade, letting the palm come within inches of his body. Only then did he leisurely lift his hand and gently push Xuan Cheng’s wrist aside.

The instant before the palm landed, Xuan Cheng retracted his power to prevent any leakage, causing the wind and sand to die down significantly. Everyone present, even the untrained Wu Yunzhu, could clearly see Zhang Sanfeng’s movements—his motions were so slow they seemed exaggerated. Wu Yunzhu even thought she could raise her hand faster than him.

But to everyone’s astonishment, Zhang Sanfeng’s seemingly sluggish movements outpaced Xuan Cheng’s attack. His hand arrived just in time to deflect Xuan Cheng’s wrist with a soft push. Xuan Cheng felt an unexpected surge of gentle force that left him stumbling to the side.

Ren Yingying glanced up at the man behind her, thinking: ‘This technique of Zhang Sanfeng’s—slow yet swift—is remarkably similar to his earlier swordplay. Could it be that this man’s skills have already reached Zhang Sanfeng’s level?’

Xuan Cheng was stunned. He quickly leaped back to put some distance between them. Zhang Sanfeng didn’t pursue, instead glancing at the scattered leaves around them and praising, “The Prajna Palm truly lives up to its reputation as one of Shaolin’s most profound techniques.”

Xuan Cheng snorted. Though the compliment sounded sincere, it stung after his embarrassing failure. Still, he didn’t dwell on it, as his first move had been a mere probe, using only half his strength and largely feinting.

Fang Zheng coughed lightly. “This junior has studied the Thousand-Hand Tathagata Palm for many years. I humbly seek your guidance, Master.” With that, he delivered a soft, floating palm strike. 

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