"Puff, puff, puff!" Several powerful sounds were echoing in the cold and dry air.
Actually, Meng Qi had known that there was a gap between Zhen Miao and himself and prepared to accept the upcoming failure. But he had not expected that the gap was so huge until now, even though Zhen Miao confined his strength to the primary level of Qi-cultivation and used Arhat Fists only.
As for Zhen Miao, he had known that Meng Qi had learned a little Iron Shirt. Thus, he was trying to target Meng Qi's weak points, like temples and eyes, again and again with rigorous and fierce fists on the one hand; and he patiently responded to the flaws shown by Meng Qi deliberately on the other hand—it seemed that Zhen Miao would not give Meng Qi any chance to batter him. Even when there was a perfect chance, he would retain at least half of his force for defense instead of sparing no effort to attack, unless he was facing Meng Qi's weak points directly.
Through continuous actual fights, Meng Qi had generally mastered the Arhat Fists, but he still could not catch Zhen Miao's swift and precise movements. Sometimes, he knew the attack was coming but just could not catch it with his eyes, and sometimes, his eyes eventually caught it but his body just could not react at the same time. Without Iron Shirt to withstand the fists several times, he would have been defeated. A series of "Puff!" sounds proved that he was hit again and again.
Although he was not hit in the vitals, Meng Qi still felt a dull pain from the continuous strikes.
Of course, Meng Qi had gained a lot in spite of the pain—he perceived that the Arhat Fists was becoming something instinctual, and it was no longer difficult for him to master it.
Right now, a sudden gratitude for Jiang Zhiwei struck him. If not for her, he would not have chosen to exchange the Thwart Kung Fu Iron Shirt before. Instead, he would have to go through thousands of failures in pair exercises to get it, like most inexperienced people. Yet, he could now forge the fists into an instinct through pair exercises with the help of Iron Shirt.
Even so, it was still difficult for him to get out of this defenseless situation! Zhen Miao's powerful and rigorous fists left him no opportunities to struggle with Iron Shirt!
"Oh, no! I must find a way out for myself. It's nearly beyond what I can bear..." Meng Qi thought. But he did not panic at all. Instead, he strived to seek counterattack chances in the absence of the fear of death, backed up by Iron Shirt.
All of a sudden, Meng Qi discovered that in this round of attack, Zhen Miao unconsciously exposed an obvious defenseless part at the left side of his body—a part that rendered him some time to extricate himself from the frontal attack and take a break!
This time, Meng Qi manipulated his body successfully. After a deceptive movement, he tried to throw himself to the left.
Unfortunately, before he made it, a leg from somewhere wrapped that was with white leggings directly kicked toward his belly.
"Damn it!" Meng Qi complained about it as he dodged the leg. Just then, the sound of the wind rang out near his ear, which was produced by a fist that had stopped at one of his temples, and the pressure put on it brought him a headache.
"Well, that's enough for today." Zhen Miao took his fist back and announced the end of the match as he put his palms together. From the faint smile on his face, it was apparent that he was really concerned about yesterday's shame and satisfied with today's win.
"Thanks for your instructions," Meng Qi responded with his palms together as he summarized the experience by reviewing the fight.
No matter what intentions Zhen Miao had, such exercises were a great help to him.
The solution to the deceptive move of Zhen Miao just occurred to him. If he had used the Eight Divine Steps, he would have not only avoided his leg kicking but also induced Zhen Miao's real flaws.
As this idea just came up in his mind, Meng Qi blurted out, "Senior Brother Zhen Miao, please give me instructions in the fight tomorrow." He thought, "Alas, I didn't think of the way until now! It seems that I'm not proficient enough in Eight Divine Steps."
"What?!" All the monks looked at Meng Qi, doubting if they had misunderstood. "How dare he challenge Senior Brother Zhen Miao again!"
Stuck for a second, Zhen Miao nodded slowly at Meng Qi and answered, "If you fail to withstand 10 movements of mine tomorrow, you'll lose the opportunity to fight with me in the days to come."
On the way to the Dining Hall—
"Gee, are you crazy?" Zhen Yong looked Meng Qi up and down like he was looking at a stranger.
And Zhen Hui was looking at Zhen Yong with confusion. "Why did you say that, Senior Brother Zhen Yong? He's doing something that every hero will do, isn't he?"
By giving Meng Qi an odd stare, Zhen Yong wondered what strange stories had Meng Qi told to Zhen Hui.
Meng Qi knew that he was acting very strange, so he just told him frankly, "Senior Brother Zhen Yong, actually, I just came up with a brilliant move to deal with the situation just now, and couldn't help blurting it out."
"You came up with it after the fight, so you must be unfamiliar with the movement, right?" Zhen Yong guessed what Meng Qi did not say.
Meng Qi nodded, murmuring, "I have to go to the Kung Fu Acting Hall and practice it with someone else."
After dinner, Meng Qi sat in meditation and practiced the Shaolin Cultivation Method for a while. Then he rushed to the Kung Fu Acting Hall.
He looked around the hall and flashed a smile because Zhen Liang was doing pair exercises with a monk. He was launching violent attacks with a fiendish and ferocious face, seemingly trying to give full vent to his rage and grievances.
Meng Qi slowed down and made a large circuit there. He saw that the monk was punched and hit again and again because of his lack of strength, and his face became black and blue.
"Haha!" Watching the monk stagger out, Zhen Liang roared with laughter. Just then, a powerful force bumped on his back and pushed him to hit a monk standing opposite him.
"Wow! How dare you hit me! You're being extremely arrogant. Come on, let's have a pair exercise!"
"I hate that sound!" Zhen Liang's body involuntarily stiffened for a second. Then he turned around slowly, intending to retort upon him, yet some other words just escaped his lips. "Sorry, I've got a partner."
"Really? But I just saw him go out. Well, how about fighting for about half an hour? You can have a breathing spell now," said Meng Qi with a seemingly bright smile on his charming face. But to Zhen Liang, he looked like an evil ghost.
Looking around, Zhen Liang discovered that most of the monks stood far away from him except for a few who got along well with him. As he was not willing to incriminate his friends, he summoned up his courage by clenching his teeth and said, "Well, let's get it over with!"
At first, Meng Qi was amused by Zhen Liang's "resigning himself to his fate" response. But then, he quickly resumed a serious expression and launched an attack with a shout.
After half an hour—
"Please, please! I throw in the towel, throw in the towel." Zhen Liang threw himself on the floor like a dead dog, refusing to stand up.
"All right, so much for today." Meng Qi nodded with his hands touching his stubble.
"After all, I'm already familiar with the key movement of the Eight Divine Steps. I'll be sure to 'surprise' Zhen Miao, provided that he only employs Arhat Fists," Meng Qi thought.
Hearing that, Zhen Liang instantly rose up to flee out.
After a few steps, he stopped and pretended to be calm. "You know what? My elder brother is one of the Commandment Monks of the Commandment Yard!"
"Wow, so finally you're going to cry to your brother?" Meng Qi sneered.
Such an ironic tone was beyond Zhen Liang's expectation, leaving him dumbfounded.
Knowing that he would undergo Samsara many times with abundant Kung Fu books and equipment, Meng Qi did not care much about the Commandment Monks. He just grinned. "Whether it was before or after I got my Dharma name, Zhen Yong, I've done everything with a clear conscience. So if I violate the commandments, I won't bother you but take the punishment voluntarily. It's time for you to go, or do you want another fight?"
Zhen Liang was frightened to scramble away because he had never met a guy that had no hint of fear for the Commandment Monks since he "dominated in the exercise fight" a year ago.
"Zhen, Zhen Yong? Is there something wrong with you?" Zhen Yong stood beside him, confused.
Meng Qi gave him a glimpse and said, "Just kidding. There are so many differences in stature and appearance between us, only a blind fool couldn't distinguish us."
"Alas, no sense of humor. What a pity!"
...
The next day, after the regular practice again, Meng Qi stepped toward Zhen Miao as keen as mustard. "Please give me some instructions."
Although monks like Zhen De had expected it, they were still astonished when the expectation turned to reality. "What's wrong with Zhen Ding? How dare he challenge Senior Brother Zhen Miao again and again!"
"Him winning last time was nothing but a fluke. How could he think himself on equal terms with Senior Brother Zhen Miao?"
"He's as proud as Lucifer!"
"Doesn't he realize that a great disparity was revealed yesterday?"
As for Zhen Miao, he just nodded and squared off for Meng Qi's first shot.
A similar scene had just played itself out. Meng Qi was forced into the awkward dilemma by Zhen Miao again. Although Meng Qi made great progress in Arhat Fists, he was no match for Zhen Miao. Instead of counterattacking, what he could do was to avoid some of the fists as much as possible.
Watching such a scene, Zhen De said in delight, "I knew it! Want to beat Zhen Miao? Not in your lifetime!"
"Exactly! It only happens in his dreams." Other monks agreed, as the ones who stood out usually endured the brunt of the attack. "In just a minute, Senior Brother Zhen Miao will win again!"
"Of course! Since he's cautious, I guess he won't use that same movement as yesterday." Zhen De assumed confidently.
Before Zhen Miao exposed his weakness deliberately, Meng Qi withstood fists with his shoulders first and then attacked Zhen Miao on the right side of his body when he lowered his left shoulder.
Facing Meng Qi, Zhen Miao jerked out of the way, trying to strike his ears with both fists and hit right on his temples fiercely.
Suddenly, Zhen Miao was dazzled, and in a flash, Meng Qi disappeared without a trace.
It was not Meng Qi's speed, but his unexpected and weird movements that were out of Zhen Miao's expectation and caused the hallucination of Meng Qi's disappearance.
"Damn it!" Zhen Miao did a double-take, but then Meng Qi had avoided him and stood back to back.
Meng Qi took this good chance to hit Zhen Miao's back with his elbow of steel.
"Puff!" Meng Qi felt as if he had given a punch in cotton. It turned out that Zhen Miao's cloth swelled up and counteracted most of the power.
It was beyond the strength of the Qi-cultivation Stage! Having realized that, Meng Qi stopped in time and smiled. "Very impressive, Senior Brother."
Angry at his second failure, Zhen Miao said with a pale face, "Let's fight again tomorrow."
It seemed that Zhen Miao took Meng Qi as a real opponent seriously.
It happened so quickly. Before the monks like Zhen De had realized, the winner had stood out. The fight was so wonderful, just like a dream, leaving all the monks staring blankly at Zhen Miao and Meng Qi, doubting what they had just seen.
After a while, some attention and vigilance appeared in their eyes.
Anyway, Zhen Ding defeated Zhen Miao again. He had to have some outstanding merits!
"Well done! It's hard to accept the fact that you just learned Arhat Fists," said Zhen Yong, who caught up with Meng Qi and Zhen Hui after the fight, looking at Meng Qi with quite a different look.
With a hint of complacency, Meng Qi boasted without shame, "It's all about my talent."
After all, he could not reveal the secret of the World of Samsara.
"Will you go to the Kung Fu Acting Hall?" asked Zhen Yong.
Meng Qi nodded his head vigorously. "Surely. I have to make preparations for tomorrow's fight."
Meng Qi practiced Inner Qi Force after dinner and stepped into the Kung Fu Acting Hall as usual.
When he had just entered, he noticed that a nervous look occurred on Zhen Liang's face. In order to cover up it, Zhen Liang asked a monk near him to practice. They attacked each other with gentle movements as if they had wanted to practice until the end of time.
Other monks near Zhen Liang started their own exercises, not giving Meng Qi a chance to "provoke" them.
"Why? Am I a villain?" Meng Qi said in confusion. Then he thought, "Well, it's not a bad feeling!"
Zhen Yong "agreed" with him this time. "Zhen Ding, you're a wicked monk!"
Over the following month, Meng Qi spent most of his time in the challenges and counter-challenges with Zhen Miao, in which he lost most of the fights, and at night, he would practice Kung Fu himself at the Kung Fu Acting Hall. In the second half of the month, he thought that the monks there were no match for him, so he entered the Fighting Hall. As expected, he was beaten black and blue, but he still enjoyed it because he had achieved obvious advancements in Inner Qi Force, bare-handed skills, and bladesmanship!
One day at noon, Xuan Chi announced a task. "Tonight, you're responsible for guarding the fortress at the back mountain."
Seeing those puzzled faces, Zhen Miao explained, "The demons and ghosts subdued by Shaolin were trapped at the back mountain, so it's necessary to have men on watch. Don't worry. All you have to do is keep an eye on the surrounding environment, while our respected masters from Dharma Yard and Bodhi Yard will take everything under control in the building."
"Demons and ghosts?" Meng Qi took a deep breath unconsciously.