Chapter Fifty-Nine: Leaving Shaolin

Thousand-Hand Buddha Fist—this was the martial art Yang Wenhao had purchased from that old beggar for a thousand yuan back in the day. Though it was only a printed copy, it was no less effective than the original. Thanks to it, Yang Wenhao had mastered this Buddhist martial technique.

Of course, Yang Wenhao was unaware that his display of the Thousand-Hand Buddha Fist was mistaken by Master Fang Zheng and Dongfang Bubai, who watched from the side, for the Thousand-Hand Tathagata Palm. Though the names differed, the techniques were of the same lineage and similar in essence.

Yang Wenhao had made his own alteration: instead of fists, he used open palms. It appeared as though he struck with a single palm, but in an instant, the move could transform into a thousand palms, overwhelming in power.

Surrounded by one hundred and six Shaolin disciples forming the Arhat Array, their combined efforts could not withstand the thousand palms—an unstoppable martial skill. Alone, Yang Wenhao was equal to a thousand men, parrying every attack the Shaolin disciples launched.

Yet as the battle continued, the full terror of the Arhat Array gradually unfolded. Though none of the disciples individually surpassed Yang Wenhao in strength, once the array began its assault, its attacks were as relentless as a surging river—unceasing and inexhaustible.

At this moment, Yang Wenhao was like a dike holding back a flood, while the Shaolin disciples were the rushing waters battering against it. If it had been any ordinary martial artist, they would have been swiftly overwhelmed by this torrent.

The greatest horror of the Arhat Array was its ceaseless assault; the endless barrage would eventually wear down even the strongest, if not kill them outright, then exhaust them to death over time.

But Yang Wenhao moved through it like a dragon in the sea, executing his techniques with ease. Nevertheless, he gradually felt the strain.

The Arhat Array was a test of endurance, a battle of inner strength. If Yang Wenhao’s internal energy failed him, he would ultimately lose.

Yang Wenhao had not yet formed his foundation; once his spiritual energy was depleted, there was no way to replenish it.

“It’s almost time. I must end this quickly.”

At first, he had treated these disciples as sparring partners, but if he continued in this arrogant manner, he would end up defeated or dead from exhaustion.

“Yiyang Finger.”

In a flash, Yang Wenhao’s figure appeared before a Shaolin disciple like a phantom. Before the disciple could react, Yang Wenhao’s two fingers became a sharp blade, pointing directly at the disciple’s chest.

In the blink of an eye, under the astonished gaze of Master Fang Zheng and the others, that Shaolin disciple was rendered immobile.

“His acupoints have been struck!”

This was the first reaction of Dongfang Bubai and Master Fang Zheng.

What shocked them most was that Yang Wenhao, amidst such chaos, could strike a disciple’s acupoint with the precision and swiftness of a dragon.

The Arhat Array relied on pairs; with one less, its power was diminished.

Yang Wenhao continued using his martial arts, moving like a specter, appearing before the next Shaolin disciple and striking with a finger—another fell, unable to fight.

Again and again, a quarter of the one hundred and six Shaolin disciples were soon incapacitated. The Arhat Array was no longer complete.

The remaining disciples grew anxious seeing their brothers and comrades defeated, which gave Yang Wenhao the opportunity to strike.

With a series of sharp sounds, the Shaolin rods in the disciples’ hands snapped in two.

Seeing their weapons destroyed, the disciples were unhappy and tried to attack Yang Wenhao, but Master Fang Zheng called them off.

Those still standing helped their fallen brothers off the field.

Master Fang Zheng slowly approached Yang Wenhao: “Young Master Yang, your talent and mastery of martial arts are truly rare in the world.”

“You flatter me, Master Fang Zheng,” Yang Wenhao replied with a respectful gesture. “Might I now have the chance to enter the Scripture Pavilion and view the collection?”

Though Master Fang Zheng was reluctant, a loss was a loss, and he had to honor the wager. He nodded slightly: “Of course. Please follow me, both of you.”

Led by Master Fang Zheng, they arrived at Shaolin Temple’s Scripture Pavilion.

“Please examine the books carefully, and do not conceal or damage any scriptures.”

Master Fang Zheng kept a close watch, concerned that Yang Wenhao and Dongfang Bubai might take or destroy the treasures within. Every scripture here was a treasure of Shaolin; the loss of even one was a tragedy.

Yang Wenhao nodded; he had come only to merge martial arts, not to collect or damage anything.

“System, merge all the martial arts and techniques here.”

“System prompt: All original martial arts will disappear upon merging. If the host merges without damaging originals, it will cost double the merging points.”

Yang Wenhao frowned. If he merged as the system suggested and all the martial arts vanished, Master Fang Zheng would surely lead the entire Shaolin Temple in hunting him down.

Moreover, there were two others present—Yang Wenhao had to be cautious.

“I’ll spend double points, then.”

“Ding! Merged martial arts: ‘Thousand-Hand Tathagata Palm,’ ‘Muscle-Tendon Transformation Classic,’ ‘Diamond Sutra,’ ‘Heart Sutra,’ ‘Diamond Wisdom Palm,’ ‘Diamond Zen Lion’s Roar,’ ‘Arhat Demon-Subduing Divine Skill,’ ‘Diamond Indestructible Body,’ ‘Great Diamond Fist,’ ‘Great Diamond Palm,’ ‘Wisdom Palm.’ Merging cost: two thousand points.”

“Ding! Shaolin martial arts automatically combined into ‘Shaolin Seventy-Two Ultimate Arts.’”

The Seventy-Two Ultimate Arts of Shaolin were simply the collective term for Shaolin martial arts.

Nonetheless, Yang Wenhao felt some regret; despite his efforts, he had only learned a small portion, and many more remained beyond his reach.

“What’s to come will come in time,” he thought.

Though Yang Wenhao had merged so many martial arts, he could not simply leave at once. With the two others watching, he had to put on a convincing show.

He spent an hour browsing the pavilion, thoroughly playing his part.

“Thank you, Master Fang Zheng,” Yang Wenhao said with a bow.

“You’re already finished?” Both Master Fang Zheng and Dongfang Bubai were curious.

Yang Wenhao smiled calmly: “I merely wished to see Shaolin Temple for myself. Now my wish is fulfilled, and I am satisfied. Thank you, Master Fang Zheng, for allowing me such a feast for the eyes.”

Master Fang Zheng nodded: “If that is so, I will not see you out.”

Leaving Shaolin Temple, Dongfang Bubai could not help but ask, “You finally got inside, and you just glanced around and left?”

“I’ve seen everything inside,” Yang Wenhao replied.

“All of it?” Dongfang Bubai was astonished. “You just flipped through it once and remembered it all?”

“Yes,” Yang Wenhao nodded, offering no denial.

Seeing Yang Wenhao admit it, Dongfang Bubai drew a sharp breath. “A martial arts prodigy, indeed.”

(End of chapter)