Chapter 110 – The Name of the Temple, the Shadow of the Man

“For the sake of the world, please rest in peace.”

Hearing these words in the rain, Fan Xian couldn’t stop himself from laughing, a not-so-exaggerated laugh, that half-exposed clear face outside of his hat, the corners of his lips slightly curled up with a hint of disdain, a hint of absurdity. This was his truest inner reaction, probably even he had not thought that entering the Temple of Celebration in the rain, he would actually meet these ascetics, and the temperament that these ascetics showed was actually that strange.

What is the temple? Not many people under the sky knew, and the only one who knew something about that ethereal location was undoubtedly Fan Xian, who had accompanied Sean to his death. In the days after his rebirth, he had speculated about this more than once, only there had been nothing fundamentally revealed. Fan Xian knew many of the priests, ascetics, or monks who served the temples in this world, and the most famous of them was undoubtedly the Northern Qi State Master, the ruler of the Heavenly Dao, Master Bitter Lotus. However, even Master Bitter Lotus never thought that he was endowed with the will of the divine temple, and that he would act on behalf of the heavens to punish the suffering of the living.

In front of him, these bitter monks in the rain were extremely serious, extremely resolute in saying such words, so it was impossible for Fan Xian not to secretly sneer.

“Why must it be me who rests in peace and not another?” Fan Xian slowly restrained the smile on his face and looked at the ascetics around him as he calmly asked, “If there really is a god in the world, I’m sure that all beings must be equal in his eyes, and since this is the case, why are you targeting me? Could it be that the ascetics who serve the temple …… are also nothing more than rats who are afraid of softness?”

These sneering words obviously had no effect on those ascetics, who were still calmly kneeling around Fan Xian, looking as if they were worshipping him, yet the pure aura that had already congealed into a single unit had already firmly controlled Fan Xian’s figure in the middle of the field.

“It’s not difficult to let me enter the palace to ask for forgiveness, it’s just that I need an explanation as to why the sinner is me?” Fan Xian slowly pulled off the rain hat attached to his collar, letting the faint raindrops slowly trickle down on his smooth black hair, and said earnestly, “I didn’t know that you, who are so obscure, were such fanatics, and I can understand the meaning of those things that you didn’t say out loud, which is nothing more than to unify the world, to put an end to the restlessness and wars that have been going on for decades, and to allow the common people to seek a happy and peaceful life. I don’t understand, but I don’t understand, on what basis do you judge that that man will be able to fulfill your hopes and carry out the will of the temple perfectly?”

Fan Xian turned his body slightly, then felt the condensed aura around him deflect with it like a living thing, very smooth and fluid, without a hint of stagnation or revealing a single loophole that could be exploited. His eyebrows raised slightly, he really did not expect that these ascetic monks, when they joined hands, could really fuse their individual realms of actual power to form such a powerful force.

Perhaps this was the reason why His Majesty the Emperor had recalled these outwardly wooden, inwardly fervent ascetic cultivators back to Kyoto during this period of time.

Since his first step into the Temple of Celebration, Fan Xian should have reacted within the first moment if he wanted to escape from the siege of these ascetic cultivators, yet he had already missed that opportunity and was caught in the middle of a heavy siege. This might have been because he had underestimated the power of the ascetics, but to a greater extent, it was because he wanted to talk to these ascetics, so that with these conversations, he could learn about things that he desperately wanted to know. For example, why did the ascetics of the Qing Temple work hard to assist Emperor Qing, completely disregarding the oppression that the imperial court and palace had put on the Qing Temple over the years, as well as …… whether or not there was any relationship between His Majesty, the Emperor, and that vague and ethereal divine temple.

The dozen or so ascetics in the rain changed their kneeling position to sitting in a cross-legged position, still surrounding the standing Fan Xian in the center. Their faces were wooden, as if they had long since ceased to be bothered by external objects. After a long period of silence, perhaps these ascetics still hoped that Mr. Fan could be persuaded by himself, and not let the Qing Kingdom, which was about to be unified, fall into turmoil. So a voice rang out right in front of Fan Xian.

An ascetic monk clasped his hands together, raindrops hanging on his feeble eyelashes, and said leisurely, “Your Majesty is the one who has attained the heavenly revelation, and we walkers should help Your Majesty to unify the world for the benefit of all the people.”

“Heavenly revelation? When?” Fan Xian put his hands behind his back, his face unchanged as he stared at the aged face of the ascetic monk and asked, easily seeing that all of these ascetics among the field were no longer young.

“Decades ago.” A voice rang out from behind Fan Xian’s side, answering in an extremely vague manner. However, Fan Xian’s eyes narrowed slightly as he began to think quickly.

“A messenger conveyed the temple’s will to you?” Fan Xian asked.

“Yes.” The one who answered this time was another ascetic, and he answered cleanly and without delay. Yet this answer caused Fan Xian’s eyes to narrow even more.

The fact that the temple occasionally had messengers patrolling the earth was in itself one of the biggest secrets of this continent, and if he hadn’t grown up around Uncle Wuzhu since he was young and known so many secrets from Sean Chen Pingping, he would never have been able to ask these words, yet …… these ascetic monks weren’t much taken aback to hear the word messenger from Fan Xian’s mouth. It seemed as if they had expected Fan Xian to know some of the secrets of the temple, a matter that nevertheless surprised Fan Xian.

“But the Great Sacrifice is dead, and so is Sanshi, and so are …… all of your companions on Daedong Mountain.” Fan Xian continued to speak very calmly, but even the autumn rain couldn’t hide the malice and mockery in his tone.

“Is there anyone who will not die?”

“Then why don’t you guys die?”

“Because His Majesty still needs us.”

“It sounds like you guys are a lot like the girls in my building.”

The atmosphere in the Temple of Qing in the rain was marvelous; Fan Xian had been asking questions calmly and continuously, while these ascetics sitting around and surrounding him were answering the questions individually, answering them in a wooden and calm, orderly fashion, opening their mouths in turn, and there were as if one person answered for the sixteen people in the field.

Fan Xian’s heart gradually sank, it seems that these strange ascetics have been practicing for many years, and the art of heart-to-heart has already reached some kind of strong realm, and what made him even colder was the information about the temple messenger.

The most recent time the temple messenger came to earth was naturally the one in the fifth year of the Qing calendar, this messenger disembarked from the south, all the way like a wild beast indifferently acquiring the customs and habits of the human society, in the process of such habits, the southern states and counties of the country of Qing, there were a lot of people who died in the hands of this messenger, maybe it was just habitual indifference to life, perhaps it was that this messenger wanted to cover up the news of his own existence, in a word, at that time, the Thirteen Yamen of the Ministry of Justice paid a great price, but they were not able to touch a single corner of this mysterious emissary’s clothes.

The Qing court at that time only saw this person as a murderer with exceptional martial arts skills, without knowing his true identity, which was why the Ministry of Justice later asked the Supervisory Yuan for help, and Yan Bingyun was prudent enough to borrow the Tiger Guard from Fan Xian.

However, before the Supervisory Yuan had a chance to make a move, this temple messenger had already arrived in Kyoto, in the alley next to the Fan Mansion, and was intercepted by Five Bamboos at a noodle stall.

After a battle of cloth clad patriarchs, the temple messenger died, and Five Bamboo was seriously injured, and has since disappeared, recuperating for several years on the Great Eastern Mountains, while the remains of this temple messenger were burned in …… the Qing Temple.

Fan Xian’s gaze through the rain curtain, toward the barren lawn at the back of the Qing Temple, his eyes slightly cold, thinking of that day when His Majesty and the Great Priest looked at the scene of the temple messenger in the fire, for a moment, I do not know how to say.

The Grand Priest of the Temple of Celebration had been preaching in the swampy, barren lands in the south of the Kingdom of Celebration in previous years, but happened to return to the capital shortly before the temple messenger entered the capital, and then died of a serious illness shortly after the messenger melted in the fire.

Was this a coincidence? Of course not, at least Fan Xian did not believe it. The matter of Uncle Wuzhu’s injury, and the descent of the temple messenger, were all things that he had only learned of later, and it had taken him a long time to only vaguely find out about this, but at least it proved that His Majesty the Emperor must have made some sort of agreement with that messenger from the temple, through the great sacrifice of the Temple of Celebration.

Back in the fifth year of the Qing Dynasty, His Imperial Majesty hoped to use his illegitimate son as bait to lure this emissary from the temple to die with the Five Bamboo, only he didn’t accomplish his goal. In order to bury this matter, in order to keep Fan Xian from knowing about it, the great priest …… must die.

Fan Xian withdrew his gaze and looked at the ascetics in front of him, naturally thinking of the so-called apocalypse, the will conveyed by the so-called temple emissary, the one emissary who must have been the one who had come to the Kingdom of Qing twenty-two years ago.

Now it seemed that that messenger had not only transferred Uncle Five Bamboo away from Kyoto, but had also reached some sort of cooperation with the Emperor on behalf of that vague and ethereal divine temple.

Cooperation between the Emperor and the divine temple? Fan Xian’s brows furrowed. The first cooperation had killed Ye Qingmei, and the second cooperation had nearly killed Uncle Wuzhu …… All of the things were actually very clear, and the only thing that was not clear was just why that divine temple, which nominally did not interfere in world affairs, would make such a choice on earth.

At this time in the Qing temple besieging Fan Xian’s ascetic monk age have been a little old, twenty years ago, they have been informed of the will of the temple, in the ecstasy, extremely loyal into the team for the Qing emperor’s work in the service of the team, these twenty years, they walk in the folk, spreading …… supposed to be to goodness …… indoctrination, a danban, a dipper, living a hard but peaceful life, at the same time …… I think they must also be working as secret agents for the emperor.

Now that Dongyi City has been subdued, civil unrest has been pacified, Chen Pingping has died, the winds and rains are favorable, the people’s hearts are at peace, the country is rich and the army is strong, the strength of the Qing Dynasty has reached its peak, and apart from Fan Xian, it seems that there is no longer anything that can stop the Qing Emperor’s pace of uniting the whole world, so these ascetics returned to Kyoto, ready to meet the radiant moment.

So the ascetics tried to persuade Fan Xian to forget his own personal vendetta for the sake of this great cause, to forget one’s grief for the sake of the world’s justice.

Fan Xian stood alone in the rain, and although the rain was slight, it still gradually dampened his clothes. These ascetics were very frank in telling him what they had done in the past twenty years, explaining the secrets hidden behind the history of Qing, for they were sincerely trying to persuade him, trying to use the will of the temple, the submission of the people, and the tendency of the general trend to convince Fan Xian not to be an enemy of His Majesty the Emperor.

It was because His Majesty was the bright ruler chosen by Heaven, the common lord of the world.

“It’s all bullshit.” Fan Xian shook his head somewhat helplessly, wiping the rainwater from his face as he looked at the ascetics around him who were pleading bitterly with him, and said, “What on earth does any of this have to do with me? I’m just one of His Majesty’s subjects …… No, I’m just a grasshopper right now, I don’t think anyone in the world who looks at it will think that I’ll affect the world’s great power, all of you have to force me to go to the palace or to escort me to the ground, aren’t you overreacting a bit?”

The Bitter Cultivators looked at each other, seeing the caution and determination in their eyes; naturally, they didn’t believe Fan Xian’s words. One of them looked at Fan Xian and said sincerely, “Because you …… are her son.”

Fan Xian was silent, finally realizing just how the big battle in the Temple of Celebration had come about today. If it was that these ascetic monks in the Celebration Temple served the temple faithfully, treating His Majesty the Emperor as the leader of Heaven’s Choice, then there was no doubt that Ye Qingmei, the little girl who had fled the temple and had once stolen a lot of things from the temple, was of course their greatest enemy. Perhaps these ascetics didn’t know the inside story, nor did they need to know the inside story, just that the temple messenger from twenty years ago had set the nature of Ye Qingmei’s behavior, they would be deeply scornful of that woman who dared to defy the temple.

This scorn continued until twenty years later, and it carried over to Fan Xian.

“What would His Majesty think if you killed me?” Fan Xian asked with a smile, “I think he would be very reluctant to see his son die at the hands of you ascetics, I’m very worried for you.”

All the ascetics saluted in unison, their faces resolute. No one responded, but the meaning expressed was clear: for the sake of the goal they were pursuing, even if His Majesty the Emperor killed them all afterward, they would still leave Fan Xian here, forever.

“I’ve heard everything I wanted to hear.” The corner of Fan Xian’s lips curled up, and he said with slight sarcasm, “I don’t think you’ll feel comfortable enough to place any kind of restraints on me if I agree to enter the palace. Of course, I can also make a false pretense that there’s no harm in agreeing first, or at least it seems like I can save a little life.”

“It’s just that you guys have misjudged one thing.” Fan Xian looked at them and said indifferently, “I believe in the existence of the temple more than you do, but because of that, I won’t be so scared that my legs will go weak at the mere mention of the temple’s name and kneel in this rain just like you all.”

An ascetic sighed deeply and said with compassion, “When one is born between heaven and earth, one must always have some fear.”

“These words, His Majesty once said to me.” Fan Xian bowed his head slightly, thinking to himself, but that His Majesty clearly had no reverence for anything. Temples? Envoys? I’m afraid that these existences, which seemed vague and terrifying to mortals, were nothing more than a force to be utilized in His Majesty’s eyes.

“Honor the heavens and the earth, but not the will of the next person.” Fan Xian said, “On this point, you should learn from Master Bitter Lotus.”

The Bitterhearth cultivators were slightly stunned, not understanding the meaning of this statement, and then they saw Fan Xian, who was surrounded right in the middle, floating up!

Fan Xian floated up in the light autumn rain, his cloth shirt slowly held up by his true qi, and like a large, emotionless bird, he swiftly swept toward the outskirts of the Celebration Temple!

Without warning, Fan Xian’s body was like being pulled by an invisible long rope, drifting toward the gate of the Temple of Celebration with strange and incomparable speed, his speed in the air was strange and incomparable, and his stance was extraordinarily gentle, just threading his way through the rain as if he were a rain swallow, tumbling and drifting far away from the wind and rain.

However, his body had only swept out a distance of five feet before he felt an incomparably thick wall of qi come crashing down on him.

The moment Fan Xian struck, a dozen or so ascetics moved at the same time, one ascetic took the arm of another, and with a muffled grunt, threw his partner out, performing six or seven consecutive maneuvers in a very smooth manner, as if their minds had long since been connected, and there wasn’t the slightest bit of stagnation in any of these maneuvers.

The formation of these ascetics was an irregular circle, and at this time, when they were paired up and sent off, the seven of them were quickly thrown in the direction of the main gate of the Celebration Temple, and in the air their hands did not disengage, driving the ascetics below to swipe at the same time.

Like a wave.

The irregular circle surrounded by a dozen ascetic monks formed a whole in this very instant, flipping over in the drizzling air, rising up in the air, and by virtue of the wave-like aura transfer, it leapt over the rapidly flying away form of Fan Xian in a raw manner, and re-snared him in the circle.

A circle flipped over in the air and then fell to the ground, still a circle, Fan Xian still in the center of the circle. After the flash of lightning, the rain continued to fall in the same way, and the situation between the fields still didn’t seem to have changed in the slightest, except for the fact that the crowd had moved about seven feet in the direction of the main gate of the Temple of Celebration.

Then the ascetics didn’t give Fan Xian any more chances to make the first move, and with a unanimous chant, countless pairs of palms that were filled with majestic true qi and perseverance slapped towards Fan Xian’s body!

The ascetics didn’t know what secret techniques they practiced, but they were actually able to achieve a perfect fusion of their minds, perfectly blending their own real potentials together, and these countless palms slapped past, just as if a god of great splendor had given birth to countless pairs of godly hands in a split second, indifferently and mercilessly eliminating the demons in front of him.

All the space around Fan Xian was covered by the shadows of the palms that covered the sky, like a large net falling down, with no missing holes to be seen at all, this was the so-called beauty of harmony, and when it was beautiful to the extreme, it was dangerous to the extreme.

The wall of qi pounced on his face. Fan Xian forced a twist of the body in the air, forcibly adsorbed every inch of skin around the body can sense the flow of air, two large circumference of the sky forcibly destroyed, the body was forced to fall to the ground, but the toes of the feet is directly a little bit of wet ground, the domineering true qi set in the fist, a fist to the thick wall of qi in the strongest point of the bombardment of the past.

In the moment he was forced to re-restrain himself in the rounded momentum, Fan Xian deeply smelled the flavor of danger. Eight days ago, when he entered the Kyoto court, he had stabbed one ascetic to death and repelled another, and at that time, he also paid the price of three slaps, but it was obvious that the ascetics in the court that day had not demonstrated their strongest power.

Fan Xian knew where the power of these ascetics lay, and that was in the fact that they could combine their individual strengths perfectly into a whole, which was certainly not a group fight, nor was it even the kind of brilliant coordination that the disciples of the Sword Lodge had, but instead was more like the ferocious light that was condensed between the long swords of the tiger guards.

When these ascetics formed a rounded momentum, no matter which ascetic Fan Xian had to face, it was as if he had to face them as a whole.

However, in Fan Xian’s eyes, the invisible wall of qi in front of him was as clear as a wall of white mist of varying thicknesses, and without even considering any consequences, he directly condensed all the true essence in his body and directly struck out with an overbearing momentum, and the location of the strike was precisely the thickest part of that wall of qi.

With the strongest against the strongest, Fan Xian simply ignore the sky flying palm shadow, he knows that with his own strength, this punch out, the other party must be condensed into a place, in order to resist, this is probably the strong in the experience of a lot of people, raised out of the rare strong aura.

As expected, Fan Xian struck his fist violently towards the wall of qi, the palm prints in the sky suddenly disappeared, the shadow of one palm and the shadow of another palm swiftly merged into one place, dozens of palms eventually merged into one palm, a crystalline and shiny palm.

This palm clashed hard with Fan Xian’s tightly clenched fist.

The air in the Temple of Celebration seemed to deform with this collision, and the finely drifting autumn rain was shaken to the point that it flew out horizontally, and a large expanse of the verdant stone apron actually became devoid of any raindrops that could drip down, and the entire air was overflowing with the smell of dryness and killing!

After a loud boom, the clothes on Fan Xian’s right shoulder shattered and flew up like a butterfly, revealing the right arm that kept trembling.

On the other hand, the face of the ascetic monk he was facing was surprisingly red and bright, with two separate arms on his shoulders, and a dozen or so ascetics were unceasingly pouring true qi into his body along this qi bridge to help him resist this overbearingly powerful punch from Fan Xian.

Fan Xian’s face was pale, the true qi in his body spewing out violently, but he was still unable to break the other party’s encirclement; the true qi that passed from the other party’s palm was unceasing and unending, like waves, with a compelling, surging momentum that gave off a feeling that it was difficult to resist.

With a blah sound, the ascetic monk who was facing Fan Xian’s palm spat out a mouthful of blood, dripping down his shirt, yet the ascetic monk’s face was getting redder and brighter, there wasn’t even a trace of signs of exhaustion, or of not being able to bear the mammoth true qi in his body, he was just looking at Fan Xian in front of him with a hint of pity, as if he wanted to wait for the other party to concede, to dissipate his strength and to submit.

Bitter cultivators, walking and practicing in the most bitter places in the world, had indeed created extraordinary cultivation through their physical and spiritual training.

Defeat had already appeared, however, Fan Xian’s pupils were still ice cold, without the slightest hint of panic, not even an exuberant desperation, just a piece of calm, he quietly looked at the bitter cultivator who was close to him, staring at the other party’s glowing pupils, as if he wanted to discern from the other party’s pupils the color that he had been hoping for.

Only Fan Xian himself knows, just this fist and palm hand, his body meridians have been shocked to an extremely difficult to withstand the situation, the size of the two circumference of the sky running at a rapid pace, desperately along the fist to spit out the true qi, but is also about to support, especially in the waist of the snowy mountain of the fate of the door, has begun to vaguely hot, it is the precursor of the exhaustion of the first sign of the qi.

After all, it is the injured and weak body, Fan Xian’s biggest life gate is here, only in the Fan House will recuperate for a few days, these days also used to viciously use martial arts to kill people, the state of mind has not been returned to the smooth, has not yet returned to the full strength of the realm.

Luckily, he was a monster whose meridians were different from those of normal people and had one more circumference than normal people, so that he could support himself for so long with a weak body in front of the rounded power of these bitter cultivators, if he were Thirteen Lang or Haitang, I’m afraid he wouldn’t be any better than he was.

However, Fan Xian still didn’t panic, didn’t despair, and only looked coldly into the black eyes of the ascetic monk.

Finally, just as Fan Xian was about to lose his grip, the eyes of the ascetic monk, whose fists and palms were intertwined with Fan Xian’s and who was close at hand, finally appeared to be a shade of miserable green.

A miserable green color that was completely discordant with natural human eyes.

Then two channels of black blood slowly flowed out from the ascetic’s nostrils.

All of the ascetic monks around Fan Xian did not notice this, they were just sitting around, their heads bowed in meditation, and they kept pushing out the tough true qi in their bodies.

That bitter cultivator who was bleeding black blood had a trace of realization flooding through his miserable green eyes, glancing at Fan Xian, finally understanding the young man in front of him, why he was earlier willing to listen quietly to the pleas of these people of his own in the rain, so it turned out that the other party …… was just taking advantage of the autumn rain to sprinkle those toxins!

The ascetic finally remembered Fan Xian’s real teacher, the other party was that old poisonous thing’s closed disciple!

The ascetic felt his internal organs being eaten by insects and ants, his throat began to ache, and the corners of his eyes began to go numb. He knew that the toxins in his body were starting to kick in, and if he stopped at that moment, he would be able to suppress the toxins by virtue of the true qi in his body, however ……

Colorless, tasteless and insoluble in water, the poisonous powder can’t be too horrible – this is the natural world’s innate truth, is also the common sense of martial arts practitioners everyone knows, the ascetic monk is also very clear about this, so he’s not worried about his own brothers and sisters, in addition to his own frontal confrontation with Fan Xian, so the fastest poisonous, the rest of the brothers and sisters should be able to support longer, the bitter monk didn’t want to let Fan Xian leave because he had already realized that Fan Xian was about to lose his support.

His miserable green eyes flashed with a hint of contentment, a hint of determination, and with a muffled grunt, he completely abandoned the protection of his mind, letting go of his entire meridian, allowing the true qi pouring in from both sides to surge in, then pushing down his arm towards Fan Xian’s bare right arm!

All his efforts were in one palm! He was willing to trade one death for Fan Xian’s death, as well as a thousand generations of the Kingdom of Qing.

However, Fan Xian was not willing to do so, his eyes flashed with a hint of bitterness, knowing that the other party had forced his true qi, the toxin had entered his heart, and he could no longer be saved, but instead, he sunk his true qi into his lower plate, and his right shoulder slightly loosened, and he used the imperious forcefulness of a large cleaving coffin, preparing to use one of his right arms in exchange for the death of the other party, the eye of the formation, and to escape again.

In this critical situation, Fan Xian had the perseverance and courage to break his arm to survive.

However, besides Fan Xian, there were other people in this world who were unwilling to watch Fan Xian die. The chilling circle in the midst of the autumn rain, after tumbling around in the air, was a little closer to the main gate of the Qing Temple, and at this most dangerous juncture, the two words on the horizontal plaque behind the main gate of the Qing Temple suddenly dimmed a little.

It wasn’t that the sky was dark, it wasn’t that the two small gold letters suddenly rusted, but a shadow floated up, covering the two words of the Qing Temple with a little bit of brilliance.

That shadow pierced through the rain in an instant and floated unimpeded behind the ascetic monk who was directly opposite Fan Xian, and right after this person’s neck the shadow spread out marvelously, giving birth to limbs and a sword.

With a snort, the tip of the sword pierced into the ascetic monk’s neck like a viper, directly piercing out from the cartilage of his throat, the sharp blade of the sword having severed the trachea esophagus blood vessels of this ascetic monk ……

The bitter cultivator let out a klaxon, not making any sound, just staring at Fan Xian in front of him with a deadly stare, the miserable green color of his eyes was very thick, but the pupils of his eyes didn’t shrink, as if he wanted to kill Fan Xian in front of him with his gaze in a raw manner.

Right at the same time that the shadow gave birth to the sword, Fan Xian’s left hand, which had been empty but powerless, lifted up with difficulty, and with a slight gouge of the fingertips, the sleeve crossbow broke through the sleeve and came out, deeply piercing into the ascetic’s left eye, splattering a splash of blood.

The body of this ascetic monk had condensed the lifelong cultivation of more than ten ascetics in the field, so it was very strong and thick, but when he was possessed by two such vicious killing moves at the same time, he still had a pause in the end.

It was this pause that caused Fan Xian’s left arm to twist strangely, his shoulder shaking and flinging, and the Great Splitting Coffin came out again, ruthlessly slamming into the end of that sleeve crossbow, slamming this sleeve crossbow deep into the brains of the ascetic cultivators, the tip of the crossbow penetrating deep and cutting off their lives.

With a whirring sound, the rain was in chaos, and the ascetic monk who had sacrificed his life for benevolence hung down his palms in dismay.

Fan Xian changed his fist into a palm, flicked it over his head, and his entire body floated up, picking up the shadow’s clothes in his left hand, cutting through the rainy air as fast as he could, and leaving the Temple of Celebration in an instant.

From the main door of the Qing temple behind the horizontal plaque on the two small gold characters dim, to the shadow out of the sword, to Fan Xian floating body to escape the rounded momentum out of the temple, is only a blink of an eye, the shadow sword ruthless momentum has not yet stopped, but Fan Xian did not let his sword momentum into the rounded realm, forcibly against the trend, and he hand in hand with him to the dashing away.

At this time, those bitter cultivators sitting in the rainwater realized that things had changed, the bitter cultivator in the middle of the rounded momentum had his palms hanging down, and there was no longer any way to spit out, but he was still passively accepting the indoctrination of his masters and brothers, and his body violently shook on the rainy ground twice, and then he collapsed noiselessly.

Having been stabbed through the neck by the shadow, having been stabbed into the brain by Fan Xian’s sleeve crossbow, the toxin having entered the heart, and finally having been reversed by the power of the Circumcision, this ascetic monk was undoubtedly dead, too dead to die.

The rain had become heavy and chaotic, striking these ascetic monks haphazardly, they looked at the corpse of this companion in silence, and after a moment of silence and a salute, they swiftly jumped out of the temple of celebration, and chased after the two silhouettes that were about to disappear into the distance of the streets and alleys.

I wonder if they would reflect on the fact that if the temple’s will was really the will of heaven, then why were they still unable to kill Fan Xian after putting in so much effort and even willing to lay down their lives for the sake of benevolence?

In the heavy autumn rain, Fan Xian and Shadow were like two gray shadows, sprinting through the rain, under the eaves of the houses, in the bleak sky, and through the lonely streets and alleys. However, not long after leaving the Temple of Celebration, Fan Xian sensed that those very obvious scents from the rear had already caught up with him.

Kyoto Qing Temple is three miles away, usually is extremely quiet place, not even what pedestrians pass by, there are no residential houses can be utilized around, today is a heavy rain day, the street even more have not been hiding from the rain of pedestrians, which gave Fan Xian two people fleeing for their lives has brought great inconvenience.

Fan Xian’s pale face was covered in rainwater, and he glanced sideways at the middle-aged man beside him, but didn’t see any expression on the other man’s face. Fan Xian knew that he had ultimately underestimated those fervent martyrs, as well as the strength of the divine path that had stretched out for millennia on this continent.

In those past years, perhaps it was because Master Bitter Lotus as well as the Northern Qi Heavenly Dao had stolen all the limelight, perhaps it was because the ascetics of the Temple of Celebration were not very conspicuous, preferring to preach only in the most out-of-the-way places, or perhaps it was because the Great Sacrifice of the Temple of Celebration, the Second Sacrifice, didn’t give off a feeling of power, and so Fan Xian had never placed the Temple of Celebration in his sights.

Today, however, proved that this was an extremely powerful enemy, and Fan Xian even began to wonder if the blade formations that the Tiger Guards had practiced to deal with ninth grade powerhouses were derived from this marvelous combining technique of the Qing Temple.

Of course, if today’s Fan Xian was still in his peak state, he wouldn’t have become in such a sorry state, especially with this ability to escape with a light body, and the man who came from the Supervisory Academy as well as Shadow, who was the world’s number one assassin, wouldn’t have even put those trailing ascetic monks in his sights.

If in normal times, he and Shadow might have hidden their tracks nearby and turned to these salt and oil bitter cultivators to carry out the most eerie and terrifying ambush sniping.

However, not today, because of the 1,000 miles of running, the mourning in his heart and soul, the days of hardship and depletion, and the severe injuries he had suffered on the walls of the Zhengyang Gate and on the court of law, Fan Xian’s state had already fallen to the bottom, and in particular, the previous hard fight with the rounded power of a dozen or so ascetic cultivators had left him with no strength to fight another battle.

The Shadow beside him had a cold expression and looked no different, yet years of cooperation and closeness had made it clear to Fan Xian that the injuries on the Shadow’s body were also heavy, even more so than his own.

Fan Xian knew why this was, the shadow had only been injured once, but that injury was from a stab from the Si Gu sword.

Knowing about Chen Pingping’s death, how would the shadow react, Fan Xian could clearly guess that he was obviously in Dongyi City, but he returned to Kyoto almost at the same time as Wang Qinian, the world’s number one assassin traveled back even faster than Wang Qinian, and possibly even faster than Fan Xian did on that day.

With such a run, Shadow’s injuries must have gotten even worse. Fan Xian glanced sideways at Shadow, but didn’t say anything.

“Split up ahead.” The shadow opened his mouth in a sandy voice that carried a very strange flavor, and it seemed that this assassin also knew very well that both of them were now in a situation that was so bad that they couldn’t get any worse, and that they had to split up to draw away their pursuers.

Fan Xian nodded, knowing that if they separated at this time, they would naturally meet again soon.

Right at that street corner, the shadow abruptly went through to a small alley, perhaps a few moments later, he would turn into a miserable merchant who was sheltering from the rain under the eaves.

However, before he left, he indifferently said something that made Fan Xian’s heart sink and his mouth begin to turn bitter.

“Call out to me when you make your move to kill him.”

Just because of the shock to his mind caused by these words, it made Fan Xian run a little farther than intended, and those ascetics behind him dotted up far behind him, but Fan Xian didn’t have to worry about anything, and after he had passed through an alleyway, he came to the junction of Dongchuan Road, and went in the main hall of the Tanya Bookstore, and when he came out through the back door, he had already transformed himself into a scholar with an umbrella.

He came to the entrance of the Imperial College and saw a hundred umbrellas, a thousand umbrellas, and the fresh-faced sunny eunuchs under them.