Why do I have so many masters? Chapter 858: 88: So That's How It Is! (582-in-1)

Chapter 858: Chapter 88: So That’s How It Is! (582-in-1)

‘Qiong Qi’, the ancient ferocious beast, resembling a tiger with wings, known for devouring humans, naturally, no living creature like it would survive in this era. The term ‘Qiong Qi’ refers to a young man of notable status within the Famous Swords Organization.

Although Wang Anfeng didn’t know his na, nor had he t him—unaware of his stature, whether slender or stout, handso or ugly—they were already ‘old acquaintances’ from nurous matches.

Ever since descending from the Qingfeng Edge for the second ti, Wang Anfeng had encountered assassination attempts by martial arts masters twice in succession. Their strategies were either ticulously planned or randomly executed but always ruthless. If not for fortuitous interventions by masters, he would have t his demise long ago, possibly even implicating close acquaintances like Yuchi Jie and Lin Qiaofu.

New and old grievances piled up layer by layer, pressing heavily on his heart.

At this mont, learning of the adversary’s clear whereabouts felt like a heavy stone plunging into the river, stirring a ripple in Wang Anfeng’s usually calm deanor, from which a trace of killing intent naturally erged.

Every ti he rembered the appearance of his near-dead friend before him, that killing intent intensified, making him yearn to cut that young man into pieces and feed him to the wolves on the mountain.

Reflecting his state of mind, a chilling expression surfaced between his eyebrows. Coupled with his current stern swordsman appearance, he truly embodied a fearso, ominous presence that deterred approach.

Relying on the might of the Divine Weapon, he had slain a Grandmaster on Jiangnan Road. A Middle Third Rank martial artist nurtures their Qi chanism like ascension, while an Upper Third Rank martial artist views the splendor of the Jianghu effortless—every gesture, every step, carries the majesty of Heaven and Earth. The resentnt and regret of that Jiangdong hero at the ti of death partly dissipated into the heavens, partly linked with Wang Anfeng’s Qi chanism.

Such ‘fierce aura’ and ‘killing intent’ typically intimidate martial artists. Even a steadfast mind like Tie Lin would be startled. However, at monts like these, it naturally becos hazardous, affecting Wang Anfeng’s ntal judgnt.

A single thought can lead to Hell.

Overflowing killing intent is the path martial artists easily deviate from, and though Shaolin’s Buddhist Law is broad and encompassing, their martial arts are exceedingly profound. The art of killing is foremost in the world, naturally harboring fierce aura, thus fueling his internal conflict, gradually nurturing the killing intent in his heart.

Fortunately, Ci instructed Wang Anfeng to read scriptures daily to dispel the fierce aura from his martial arts. Over the years, Wang Anfeng had gained considerable mastery in Zen Buddhism.

His burgeoning killing intent had scarcely begun to stir when Buddhist Inner Strength naturally flowed through his Eight Extraordinary ridians, coursing thirty-six tis in an instant. The gentle energy countered the killing intent, making Wang Anfeng shudder slightly, realizing his thoughts of murder had beco sowhat excessive.

Earlier in his plan, he never intended to take ‘Qiong Qi’s life; however, in his present state, as long as Qiong Qi remained in Liangzhou City, he would surely fare ill.

Wang Anfeng even considered treating him as a Copper Man Statue, willing to exhaustively try every martial technique he had learned upon him.

Now recognizing his error, he imdiately channeled his energy to clear away distractions, exhaling a long breath of turbid air, regaining clarity as the fierce aura vanished in an instant.

Suppressing the thought of imdiately seeking a secluded alley, he returned to the Shaolin Temple to inquire thoroughly about Mr. Ying. Wang Anfeng once again took out pastries from his bundle, threw them into his mouth, and chewed slowly, pacifying his state of mind, then continued walking towards the North City.

Unless soone continuously watched him, they would rely think he had paused briefly contemplating sothing before proceeding, hardly noticing any anomaly, unaware that the stern swordsman had considered nurous murderous thoughts just monts before.

When Wang Anfeng erged from Old Wu the Blind’s place, his mindset felt sowhat relaxed. Now, having suddenly received such significant news, he naturally couldn’t maintain the sa tranquil composure as when he had arrived, leisurely observing the scenery along Liangzhou’s streets, while internally grumbling about not finding the pastry shop Wuxin ntioned.

Although now maintaining an outwardly composed deanor, his pace had indeed quickened, heading straight for a North City inn. It didn’t even take a tea break before he saw the inn’s signboard from afar. At that mont, he slows his pace, reciting scriptures with each step.

The Diamond Sutra, Prajna Heart Sutra, Avataṃsaka Sutra, The Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva’s Original Vow Sutra.

Over and over, cleansing the dust of killing intent from his heart, returning to clarity.

As Master once said, slaughter is not to vent inner dissatisfaction but to conclude this karma.

Slaying is a ans, not the end.

This ti, Wang Anfeng didn’t even plan to take ‘Qiong Qi’s life because his curiosity and wariness towards the organization capable of mobilizing Famous Swords were imnse. Furthermore, he wanted to know why they targeted him and the Dongfang Clan, intending to start from here.

It’s sowhat amusing that despite almost perishing at their hands, he still had no clue about the organization’s background, status, or even its na.

Though Shi Huaidie had infiltrated them, she was originally rely a Sword Servant kept by ‘Qiong Qi’. Now her position was also sowhat ambiguous, utterly insignificant, spending days cultivating in a secret location. The most prominent individual she saw was a burly old man, whom people around simply referred to as ‘Master’, without further title.

Thus, she had no way to speculate.

Wang Anfeng walked into the inn, paced up the stairs, and distributed the pastries among everyone before returning to his room. Initially, it housed four corpses, making the room extrely cramped; three had left now, and Xu Sixing’s life signs gradually restored, looking more like a severely ill patient than a forr corpse, making the room appear reasonably tidy again.