Zhou Yuanjue took one last look at the cave that had left such a deep impression on him, then turned and stepped onto the iron chain, returning to the Cloud-Picking Temple from the back of the mountain.
Li Qingxuan was already inside the Cloud-Picking Temple, accompanied by several middle-aged Daoists.
These Daoists were sturdily built. Their physiques were somewhat similar to the old Daoist Zhang Ling Heng's—broad shoulder blades, long arms, and large palms, possessing an ape-like form. It was clear they had all received the true teachings of the White Ape Plum Blossom Hand and were likely Zhang Ling Heng's direct disciples.
However, Zhou Yuanjue could tell with a single glance that although their cultivation had given them the form of the White Ape, none of them had grasped its spirit as Zhang Ling Heng had. There wasn't a true Great Master of Fist Techniques among them.
This was likely why Zhang Ling Heng, at the end of his life, had chosen to pass on the mysteries of his Fist Technique and the fire of his Martial Dao to Zhou Yuanjue.
When the middle-aged men saw Zhou Yuanjue coming down from the back of the mountain, sorrowful expressions appeared on their faces. It seemed they already knew what had happened.
"Mr. Zhou, Master, he…"
The man at the head of the group couldn't help but ask.
"The White Ape took his body away. Before the end, he saw what he wanted to see."
Zhou Yuanjue said, gazing at the distant clouds and mist.
"Is that so? He sought benevolence and received it. To hear the Dao in the morning and die in the evening without regret… that is also a blessing. The White Ape was Master's good friend. It seems Master found his own final resting place long ago. It's just a pity that we were useless and unqualified to receive the final inheritance."
The middle-aged Daoist held no resentment or jealousy toward Zhou Yuanjue, only a deep sense of shame and self-blame.
"I inherited the fire of his Martial Dao and have accepted this debt. If you have any difficulties in the Martial Dao, or if the Cloud-Picking Temple faces a crisis, you can come to me."
Zhou Yuanjue said. The middle-aged Daoist nodded, his expression still filled with grief, and it seemed the words didn't quite register.
Seeing this, Zhou Yuanjue said no more. He nodded at them and then turned to leave the Cloud-Picking Temple.
On the way, he was silent, immersed in his own world, contemplating how to perfect the new Fist Technique he had created.
"What on earth happened?"
On the drive back, Li Qingxuan couldn't help but break the silence.
Her words broke Zhou Yuanjue's concentration, causing him to recall the soul-stirring Fist Technique Zhang Ling Heng had performed before his death.
Who would have thought that a single Fist Technique could encapsulate a person's brilliant, legendary life?
That was the charm of the Fist Technique and the Martial Dao.
"Nothing much. I saw a flower bloom and wilt."
Zhou Yuanjue said lightly.
The car sped along, and soon, Zhou Yuanjue and Li Qingxuan were back in Wuhai.
In Longyuan District, Li Qingxuan drove Zhou Yuanjue all the way to his front door.
However, to their surprise, a tall young man and a short young man, both dressed in neat suits, were waiting in front of the gate to Zhou Yuanjue's villa.
"Are you Mr. Zhou?"
Seeing Zhou Yuanjue get out of the car, the two sharply dressed young men immediately walked over and asked respectfully.
"Is there something I can help you with?"
Zhou Yuanjue nodded slightly.
"Our master asked us to give this to you."
The taller of the two took an invitation from his inner suit pocket and handed it to Zhou Yuanjue.
The first thing he noticed was a striking character emblazoned upon it: Battle.
Without a doubt, it was a written challenge.
"Who is your master?"
Zhou Yuanjue looked up from the challenge, his expression calm as he asked.
"Our master is Qin Baisheng of the Chunlei Martial Arts Academy."
With slight smiles, the two men placed the challenge in Zhou Yuanjue's hand, bowed slightly, and then turned and left without another word.
"The Thunderbolt Rushing Palm, Qin Baisheng?"
Looking at the written challenge in his hand, a hint of amusement appeared on Zhou Yuanjue's face.
"You haven't even gone looking for trouble, yet trouble has come looking for you. How interesting."
Li Qingxuan couldn't help but give a meaningful smile.
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「Changlong City, Chunlei Martial Arts Academy.」
Unlike established powers like the Lanhai Society and the Tianji Sword Sect, the Chunlei Martial Arts Academy was a new force in Changlong City.
Qin Baisheng had essentially started from scratch. Relying on his formidable martial skill, he had become the strongest in Changlong City, opening an academy, taking on numerous disciples, and branching into the security industry and Decisive Fist competitions. He had deep partnerships with several major corporations in Changlong City and was at the zenith of his power.
And Qin Baisheng, the head of the Chunlei Martial Arts Academy, had achieved all this by the young age of thirty-two.
The tall and short young men in suits returned to the Chunlei Martial Arts Academy.
At that moment, in the academy's spacious rear courtyard, Qin Baisheng was in the middle of his daily training.
He wore a pair of athletic shorts. His physique wasn't overly muscular, but every inch of muscle was tightly packed against his body, creating a perfect, streamlined form that seemed to brim with explosive power, like dynamite.
About thirty meters in front of him, a disciple from the Chunlei Martial Arts Academy held a pistol, its dark muzzle aimed directly at Qin Baisheng.
BANG!!
The pistol suddenly fired, but it shot a round rubber bullet, not a metal one.
Although this type of projectile was much less destructive than a real bullet, its speed was nearly identical!
Yet, at the very instant the pistol fired, Qin Baisheng seemed to sense it. He suddenly took a single step aside, and the rubber bullet actually grazed past him!
The next moment, his body exploded into motion, his lean muscles contracting instantly to unleash immense explosive force.
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!!!
The gunshots rang out in quick succession, but each time, just before the shot was fired, Qin Baisheng seemed to sense it in advance. Weaving and changing direction during his rapid charge, he actually dodged every single bullet.
His figure darted left and right, his path like a bolt of lightning or a soaring dragon, leaving afterimages on the retinas of everyone present.
CLICK!!
After five consecutive shots, the disciple with the gun found he couldn't fire a sixth. A finger had been inserted into the gap behind the trigger, blocking his movement.
Then, with a blur of motion and a numbing sensation in his wrist, the pistol was already in Qin Baisheng's hand.
Dodging bullets on open ground!!
Dodging bullets seems incredible, but a Martial Artist who has achieved Mastery of Fist Techniques can anticipate an opponent's attack by observing subtle cues like their eyes, posture, and muscle movements, combined with a profound, almost mystical sense of crisis.
Similarly, by analyzing an opponent's changing gaze and the subtle movements of the muscles in their hand, combined with the powerful intuition honed by the Thunderbolt Rushing Palm's Secret Training Technique, it is possible to judge, to a certain extent, the timing and trajectory of a gunshot.
You don't need to be faster than the bullet, just faster than the person.
However, the action of firing a gun is incredibly short, leaving very little time for human reaction. This kind of prediction and evasion is more than ten times harder than predicting and dodging an opponent's fist.
Even for someone like Qin Baisheng, he could at most handle one pistol in an open area. If the number of guns increased, even a god would find it impossible to escape and could only die in vain.
Such is the deterrent power of firearms.
*HUFF!*
Qin Baisheng let out a deep breath under the fanatical, worshipful gazes of his surrounding disciples. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body.
The explosive changes in direction, pushing the limits of human reaction time, and the intense concentration required to anticipate an opponent's attack were an immense drain on his stamina.
He returned the pistol to the disciple, whose face was filled with reverence and fanaticism, and waved his hand to dismiss the others from the courtyard. He then turned his gaze to the tall and short young men in suits.
"Was the challenge delivered?"
he asked, his expression calm.