Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 888 - 99: Billowing Clouds Like Wrath (6,000 Words Combined into 1 · Happy Mid-Autumn Festival)

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Chapter 888 -99: Billowing Clouds Like Wrath (6,000 Words Combined into 1 · Happy Mid-Autumn Festival)

Wu Changqing was at the Reviving Spring Hall outside, using the exquisite and extraordinary advanced mechanisms of Heavenly Secrets Island to diagnose and treat illnesses. The mechanism was made to resemble Wang Anfeng so accurately that there was not a shred of difference.

Meanwhile, Wang Anfeng himself took the opportunity to return to Shaolin, and after paying respects to all the teachers, he stepped into one of the monk’s quarters.

This room was located on the top of the side peak of the Shaolin Temple. It had three rooms and a small martial arts practice ground, fenced off with green bamboo to isolate it from the outside. One side had a stone stele embedded in the ground, marking the place where he stayed during his Foundation Establishment at Shaolin in his youth. Although he no longer came here every day as he grew older, the monk’s quarters remained preserved.

As he strolled into the room, the decor was extremely simple with just a bed, a table, and a wooden chair. The wooden bed stood against the wall, where a piece of calligraphy was hanging, the characters varied in style, each with its own vitality. It was a Buddhist scripture, the Prajna Heart Sutra.

On the bed lay a set of loose garments and a wig, pale as snow and as stiff as a bristle. When Wang Anfeng prepared the materials needed for Xue Qinshuang’s disguise, he obtained some things for himself as well.

Although the Disguise Technique he had learned didn’t require thin masks or similar items, the hair color couldn’t instantly change from black to white. Even if forced, it would take time, so it was better to prepare in advance.

After casually closing the door, he took a few steps forward, with each step setting off a resounding movement in his muscles and bones, like muffled thunder rolling across the sky. After only four or five steps, Wang Anfeng transformed from a young man with a normal build and slightly slender figure into a strong and tall man, nearly nine feet in height.

With a broad mouth and a mighty appearance, he looked majestic and extraordinary.

After casually putting on the wig and using medicine to temporarily change his eye color to emerald green, he stood in the monk’s quarters no longer as the gentle young man Wang Anfeng, but as an aged yet spirited old barbarian, brimming with the courage and resolution of a veteran still eager to fulfill unfinished ambitions, even in his twilight years.

Wang Anfeng then looked into the bronze mirror, carefully adjusting the details until he was sure he was indistinguishable from the barbarian elder he had seen that day. Only then did he relax, tucking the Wooden Sword diagonally into the garments he wore on his back and stride out confidently.

Synchronizing his breathing with his steps and adjusting his Qi Mechanism, he soon sat cross-legged beside the stone stele in the courtyard. His broad palms rested gently on his knees as he watched the peaks stack up, the clouds and mist swirling, his eyes slightly closed, quietly awaiting news.

The previous day he had given Xue Qinshuang a Jade Bead for communication, saying it imitated a high martial artist’s method of transmitting sound, enabling mutual exchange. Now, he adjusted his state, his breath becoming gradually more subtle and long, like wind rising in a secluded valley, with the mist surrounding him, from a distance appearing detached from the mundane world.

One inhale, one exhale, one round of Breathing Techniques.

Then a long exhale again.

“Qiong Qi…”

His Spirit Platform was suspended high, unstained by dust, his mind as calm as a lake, without a single ripple.

“No eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or intent; no color, sound, smell, taste, touch, or law.”

…

The sound of horse hooves thundered down, kicking up dust and sand.

A group of sturdy horses galloped down the official road, at the center escorting two carriages.

Most of the knights riding the horses were men in their thirties, all exhibiting bravery, with a weathered demeanor; either dressed in dark blue vigorous attire or in typical martial artist outfits, only with heavy leather Wrist Guards around their arms, wrapped in iron chains, clinking as they moved.

However, regardless of their appearance or age, they were all armed with Sharp Weapons, their brows exuding a fierce brilliance, clearly not people to be trifled with. Pedestrians on the road all avoided them, as the cavalcade grandly headed towards Rongyue City.

Inside the first carriage, sat a young man, calm between his brows, yet faintly restless, disrupting his original bearing. In the cramped compartment, there was also a small table, with a game of chess set up on it with nineteen paths across. ƒгeewebnovёl_com

The black and white pieces seemed nailed down, not moving at all even as the carriage progressed.

The young man picked up a piece and lightly tapped it on the table.

Sitting opposite was a man in his early thirties, unshaven and disheveled, holding a sword with his eyes closed, wearing plain blue cloth attire; if not looked at closely, he was almost unnoticeable.

‘Qiong Qi’ picked up a chess piece, pondered a long time, then suddenly smiled self-deprecatingly, tossed the piece back into the chess box with a clatter, and said:

“I never thought I’d have such moments of hesitation.”

“This Xu Sixing has indeed given me a good endgame, a lifeless chess masterpiece, forcing me to take this risk myself…”

The man opposite spoke with eyes closed, saying:

“You should return, young master.”

‘Qiong Qi’ said: “How could I not know? Missing the strike means fleeing a thousand miles, a precious life can’t sit beneath broken hall roofs, but I have no choice; I must come.”

“To say last time seeking Wang Anfeng was full of setbacks, now entangling with the Dongfang Clan, again unforeseen obstacles arise, everything is not going smoothly, Wang Tiance, oh Wang Tiance, can one truly be so farsighted, calculating a century ahead?”

The man in cloth slowly said:

“No need for self-deprecation, young master. Death equals the extinguishing of a lamp. Wang Tiance, with his countless strategies capable of channeling the divine, has long passed. The renowned scholars who drew the world into their plans thrice, now only a few cling to life.”

“No one can outlast the passing of years.”

“The world once belonged to them, but it must eventually be ours.”

‘Qiong Qi’, hearing these bold words, felt his gloom dissipate slightly. He took a sip of wine and laughed heroically, saying: