Chapter 135

All the monks in Fanyin Temple knew that Senior Brother Ming Jing was cold, aloof, and unapproachable. That was, until one day, someone accidentally passed by a secret realm and witnessed him swinging Little Junior Brother Ming Kong in the air like a club.

Ming Kong’s smile stayed on his face. From a distance, one could only see a glowing head flying in midair.

Upon closer inspection, his body was perfectly straight, being held by his ankle by Ming Jing and slammed against a bell. He looked like a human-shaped windshield wiper, swaying back and forth. The scene was so bizarre that it would give children nightmares for months.

The bell’s sound reverberated, startling all the beasts. The golden light spread out in waves, gradually dissipating into the dimming sky.

Xu Ye covered his ears, using his sword energy to fend off the overwhelming spiritual pressure, feeling his scalp tingle from the ordeal. “Why do I feel like Ming Kong’s head is more effective than the bell pestle?”

He wasn’t wrong. As a genius disciple of Fan Yin Temple, Ming Kong had been practicing the Vajra Body Shield Skill for many years. His body had gradually surpassed that of ordinary people, increasingly resembling an ancient steel bar.

To be honest, from a standpoint of absolute fairness and justice, whether it’s in terms of durability or the ability to withstand spiritual energy, Ming Kong far surpasses the original bell pestle of his senior brother—

Even if one were to compare the clarity of the sounds, just a knock of the little monk’s shiny bald head against the temple bell, the instant the skull made intimate contact with the black iron, would be enough to win the competition without any suspense.

Ning Ning watched in amazement, silently marveling at the talent in the cultivation world.

First, there were music cultivators using suona, brahma bells, and erhu; now, there’s a human bell pestle like a boiled egg. Perhaps this is the legendary “making full use of everything and everyone’s talents,” only limited by imagination, not ability.

The two disciples from the Beast Taming Sect were already at a disadvantage. Unlike the Xuanxu Sword Sect, they couldn’t use sword energy as a shield and were knocked unsteadily by the bell’s sound. In the end, the female disciple shouted at the top of her lungs, “Stop, we concede!”

The moment the words were uttered, the brahma bell’s sound faded, leaving only lingering echoes.

Each mountain is higher than the other, and the world of cultivation is full of talents.

The two from the Beast Taming Sect could never have anticipated that their showy tactics would be outdone by something even more showy.

Tearfully, they handed over all their tokens, exchanging a tearful glance before fading out of the trial’s secret realm.

Ming Kong and Ming Jing had clearly noticed Ning Ning and the others long ago. After taking the tokens, they looked over in unison.

Qiao Yan, still shaken by the scene of the human bell pestle, instinctively stepped back to stand next to Ning Ning.

“Amitabha.”

Ming Kong, smiling, put his hands together and bowed slightly. “The Buddha said, ‘Five hundred turns of the head in a past life can lead to a chance encounter in this one.’ This monk and the benefactor must have accumulated much fortune in our past lives to be so destined to meet today.”

Buddha: Go away; I never said that!

“Greetings, Benefactor!”

Ming Jing also smiled gently, exuding the elegance and calm of a young Buddhist. “Many years have passed since we parted at Mount Yi. To see you again today is truly fated.”

He Zhizhou rarely encountered opponents who were his equal. Ye Zongheng was one, and this Master Ming Jing was another.

With the thickness of his skin, Tsinghua and Peking University would need to create a special subject just for him, titled “Challenging Human Limits: An Introduction to Shamelessness.”

Develop it a bit further, and he could be sent to the National Cultural Heritage site to stay with the ancient city walls, which would be like acknowledging his ancestor.

He Zhizhou: …

He Zhizhou: “Heh.”

Feeling annoyed, he didn’t want to pay attention to this white-eyed wolf. Just as he was about to turn his head away in defiance, he heard Ming Jing continue:

“I have always been grateful for Benefactor He’s life-saving grace. Since we’ve met again, I’ll give you all the tokens I’ve taken.”

(T/N: ungrateful person)

With that, he actually reached into his sleeve and pulled out eight square tokens.

He Zhizhou wanted to refuse.

But he was offering too many.

“If you give away all the tokens you’ve taken, Master Ming Jing, you’ll only have your own left.”

He Zhizhou looked like he was accepting red envelopes during Chinese New Year, pushing and shoving in a pretense of modesty: “No, no, what if you get eliminated?”

Ming Jing cooperated with him very sensibly: “A monk follows fate; everything is predestined. I came to this secret realm for training. Benefactor He need not worry too much.”

Ning Ning watched her senior brother happily accept four of the tokens, almost expecting him to say, “Friends for life,” wondering if this was what men’s friendships were about—something she really couldn’t understand.

After a moment of silence, she gently asked, “It’s getting late, and night is falling. Where do you two young monks plan to go?”

Ming Jing replied warmly, showing none of his earlier temperament for beating and hitting people. He looked like a melancholy literary young man: “Heaven is our quilt, and the earth is our bed. We monks are used to ascetic practices and prefer living in nature. The Buddha said, ‘The entanglements of the mundane world are not for me; fallen leaves are my home.'”

Buddha’s reputation took a hit, and Ning Ning felt her heart race, feeling words too cringing, and her toes were almost digging out of the three bedrooms and one living room on the ground.

Meanwhile, He Zhizhou, excited by the tokens, forgot himself and responded in a solemn tone as if giving a speech under the national flag: “It seems we are destined to part ways today. Sadly, the fate inscribed on the Three Lives Stone has led to this life’s passing encounter. Flowers will fall, and fate will end, alas!”

……You actually fell into the drama so quickly,huh!

(T/N:Legend has it that there’s a road called Yellow Spring Road, which leads to Fogotten River. Over the river, there’s a bridge called the Helpless Bridge (Naihe Bridge), and at one end of the bridge sits a crimson stone called Three-life Stone. When two people die, they take this route to reincarnation. If they carve their names on the Three-Life Stone together while they pass the stone, they are to be predestined to be together in their future lives. Although, before their rebirth, they will be given a MengPo soup to drink, thereby obliterating their memory of past lives.)