FVN Chapter 28 Copper Head and Iron Bones Technique
Chapter 28 Copper Head and Iron Bones Technique
During the gambling and confrontation in the kingdom of Jisa.
At that very moment, a golden light descended from beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens.
It should be known that one day in heaven is equivalent to one year on earth.
Lao Jun's attendant fell straight down from the outer heavens into the territory of Xiniu Hezhou, and it was already night.
The Golden Horned Boy rode on a cloud and slowly descended over the capital of the Kingdom of Jisa.
He tucked the cheap, counterfeit bell, which had been used to switch the prince's identity, into his sleeve and smiled smugly.
How could a treasure forged by Laozi himself be given to an unknown cultivator in the lower realm?
In all the years he and Silver Horn spent refining elixirs in the Tushita Palace, what good things hadn't they seen?
But Laozi was always stingy, and he never gave them such precious and exquisite items.
Now that we've finally got this opportunity, how can we let it slip by?!
Jinjiao squinted and took out the real bell from his sleeve.
The bell's body is shrouded in a chaotic current, with cloud-like characters appearing and disappearing; just by looking at it, one can tell it is extraordinary.
He played with it for a while, reluctantly putting it away, and then took out the inferior imitation bell.
"To fool a cultivator from the lower realm, it's enough to just make an appearance."
He cast an invisibility spell, descended from the clouds, and followed the genuine product's senses downwards.
Laozi said that one would sense it when they got close, and at that moment the treasure indeed faintly pointed to a certain place in the city.
"There's actually going to be some excitement?"
Golden Horn accelerated its descent, unaware that a wisp of green energy lingered nearby.
At this moment, in the city below, on East Street.
The boy and Yuantong, the leader of the guardian monks, bowed to each other before making their move.
"My Buddhist name is Yuantong, and I am the head instructor of the martial arts monks in the temple."
"I am but a man of the mountains and fields, my name is insignificant. May I ask what realm Master Yuantong has attained?"
Zhong Xuan's curiosity, on the contrary, made the round-faced man look smug.
A mage?!
He thought to himself that this kid looked indifferent, but he was quick-witted.
"We Buddhists don't talk about combat strength or realm!" Yuantong said proudly, then changed the subject, "However, relatively speaking, my Buddhist power is about the same as your Taoist innate foundation building level."
Zhong Xuan suddenly realized what was going on and understood.
The so-called combat power system in this world is actually quite obvious.
The most important thing is magical weapons, followed by supernatural abilities, and finally, magical power cultivation.
The power of supernatural abilities often depends on magical power.
The order in which these three elements are combined determines the maximum power during a magical duel.
However, it is not a matter of which is more important or less important; they complement each other.
At that moment, the monk Yuantong was holding a metal rod and slamming it heavily into the ground.
With a snap, a crack appeared in the bluestone slab.
Yuantong grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth, and said arrogantly, "Young layman, this monk's staff technique is quite forceful. If I lose control, don't blame me."
Zhong Xuan nodded: "Please, Master."
Yuantong glared, stomped his foot, and swept his iron rod across the mountain like a tiger descending a mountain.
Zhong Xuan shifted his body to the side, the tip of his spear sliding along the shaft of the staff, and he had already retreated three steps.
Yuantong swept the stick across the ground, but didn't stop. He twisted his waist, and the end of the stick, like a venomous snake, stabbed straight at his heart.
Zhong Xuan raised his spear, gently parried, and used the momentum to retreat again.
"What amazing skills!" someone in the crowd shouted.
Yuantong frowned, and his men became even more ruthless.
"The tiger turns its head!"
"A mishap!"
Yuantong shouted, and a dense barrage of stick shadows swept over.
But his opponent seemed to be able to predict the future, and every time the stick was about to touch him, he would gently dodge, his wide sleeves fluttering, unhurried, as if taking a stroll under the moon.
After five or six rounds, Yuantong hadn't even managed to touch the hem of his clothes and had to stop.
Zhong Xuan took another step back, the tip of his spear touching the ground.
He twisted his right hand, the gun barrel spun around, the gun tip pointing downwards, and he slammed it into the ground!
Click!
The iron spearhead broke off instantly, with half of the spear tip embedded in a crack in the bluestone slab.
He held the remaining half of the red tassel in his hand, and now it truly became a red tassel staff.
The surrounding crowd was initially surprised, then began to discuss animatedly.
"What's he doing? What's the point of firing if the gun barrel's gone?"
"Isn't this like cutting off your own arm?"
Yuantong's face darkened, his eyes blazing with anger: "Young layman! Are you looking down on me?"
Zhong Xuan naturally replied, "Since this is a friendly exchange, let's stop here when we've reached our goal."
Upon hearing this, Yuantong's face darkened even more.
To deliberately cut off the gun barrel—that's disrespectful!
Could it be that you are unaware of the profound Buddhist arts, including external martial arts?
He let out a muffled roar, strained his arms, and swung the iron rod with a whooshing sound, unleashing his signature series of staff techniques!
Each strike was faster and heavier than the last, the shadow of the stick pressing down like a storm!
This time, Zhong Xuan did not retreat; he twirled the red-tasseled staff in his hand to parry.
His moves were as simple as they could be—picking, blocking, deflecting, and parrying.
It was all the most basic skills, yet he managed to block Yuantong's fierce attacks every time.
clang!clang!clang!
The sticks collided like raindrops, sparks flying everywhere.
The onlookers were dazzled by the sight.
Someone couldn't help but exclaim, "This boy is going to lose! Look at him, he's being completely overwhelmed and can't fight back!"
"Indeed, who in our Jisaiguo doesn't know about Instructor Yuantong's staff techniques?"
"Back in the day, he single-handedly fought off eighteen heroes!"
But there are also sharp-eyed people in the crowd!
Those monks and officials with keen eyesight gradually frowned.
A young monk whispered to his companion, "No... it's like the instructor's every strike missed its mark, but it's more like some kind of sophisticated force-dissipating technique?"
The companion shook his head: "It seems like it is and it isn't..."
The older monk beside him squinted for a moment, then gasped, "He's been dodging the whole time! The instructor can't hit him at all!"
Sure enough, upon closer inspection—
Although the boy frequently raised the stick to block, he would move his body in the instant before the stick was about to hit him, and he would actually bear less than one-tenth of the force.
On the contrary, Yuantong became more and more anxious as he fought, sweat beading on his forehead and his breathing becoming increasingly labored.
A bearded man in the crowd shouted:
"If this continues, won't Instructor Yuantong lose after the time it takes for an incense stick to burn?"
"This kid only dodges and doesn't fight back, what kind of hero is he!"
"Exactly! Don't try to run away if you dare!"
"Draw a circle! Let him fight inside the circle!"
Someone started it, and the people around joined in:
"Draw circles! Draw circles!"
Yuantong's face darkened even more as he listened to the commotion.
He forced Zhong Xuan back with a single blow, then abruptly stopped, his chest heaving.
"Stop!" he shouted, turning to look at the head of the table. "Head of the table, I still have some real skills to show..."
Just as Abbot Jingchen was about to speak, Zhong Xuan interrupted him loudly: "The Master is right."
After attracting everyone's attention,
Zhong Xuan explained straightforwardly, "What you all say makes sense. Let's limit it to a radius of one zhang (approximately 3.3 meters). That way, we can fight more freely."
Everyone was stunned when he said that.
Yuantong's face turned bright red, and the veins on his forehead bulged.
"What an arrogant kid!"
"How dare you humiliate me like this!"
He roared, and his skin suddenly glowed with a faint golden light!
"This is the art of copper head and iron bones, a protective supernatural power of Buddhism!"
Yuantong now seemed to be plated with gold, and the iron rod was also imbued with magic power, faintly glowing with golden light.
He took a step, and the bluestone slab shattered with a crash!
"A tiger descends the mountain!"
Yuantong leaped forward, his staff pressing down like Mount Tai!
This blow would splatter brains even on a strong ox!
Zhong Xuan's eyes lit up, and he finally moved.
Instead of retreating, he took half a step forward!
Just in time to step into Yuantong's embrace!
A powerful, solid stance!
The force of the blow was considerable, causing Yuantong to shudder.
With a bang, a recoil force slammed back towards Zhong Xuan.
Zhong Xuan took two steps back before realizing the extraordinary nature of this "Copper Head and Iron Bones Technique".
Or perhaps Yuantong has mastered other techniques for generating power?
As Zhong Xuan thought about it, his muscles twitched slightly under the control of his flawless, microscopic vision.
In his previous life, on his deathbed, he could still press through red bricks and wood with a single finger.
He used his understanding of the Dao to cultivate his body and nourish his life, and at that time he was only focused on living longer.
In order to make the Tai Xuan Dao Jing and Hong Zhong Dian more complete and leave more behind.
As for the gains of a grandmaster of ordinary martial arts, they are merely incidental gains in the process of pursuing the goal.
"good!"
Yuantong, on the other hand, was overjoyed.
After Zhong Xuan fought him for several rounds, half of the red tassel pole was broken off.
Yuantong was overjoyed, thinking he was about to win.
Unexpectedly, the red-tasseled staff circled around the shaft of the stick and gently touched the inside of his right elbow.
The force wasn't great, but it instantly jolted Yuantong, who was about to exert his strength.
After that, one move after another, Zhong Xuan used his inner lake to observe the qi, calmly and unhurriedly countering the moves.
Every time Yuantong exerted his power, whether it was his blood energy or his magical power, it seemed as if he was being subtly poked at a crucial moment.
It doesn't affect the overall execution of the moves, but it's enough to reduce the power by 30% to 50%.
"What kind of sorcery is this?!"
Yuantong was in so much pain that he almost vomited blood, and he immediately stopped caring about any moves.
He'll just rely on his strength and invincibility to smash it!
He smashed a waist-high stone block on the street with a stick, sending shards of stone flying everywhere!
A single blow from the stick swept across the shop's door panel, sending wood chips flying everywhere!
The stick slammed into the ground, creating a crater the size of a bowl in the bluestone slab!
Yuantong used all his strength with increasing ferocity and fluidity.
However, the boy was like a fallen leaf, always drifting away just before the blow hit him.
The red tassel stick would appear from time to time, each time just before Yuantong exerted his strength.
One after another, they pressed on all his joints and acupoints, even the key points for blood and qi circulation.
Yuantong was so hot from hitting the statue that his sweat turned into white mist as soon as it seeped out, making him feel as if he were wrapped in water vapor.
The onlookers cheered and exclaimed how amazing it was, but his expression grew increasingly grim!
Despite using all her strength, she couldn't even touch a single corner of that kid's clothes!
The more he fought, the more frustrated he felt, as if a stone was stuck in his chest.
On the sidelines, the incense sticks in the incense burner were burning slowly, with only a small piece left.
Yuantong caught a glimpse of the lingering fragrance and felt a great urgency.
He roared and unleashed all his magical power.
The golden body shone brightly, and Bao Tie swung the iron rod in a wide arc!
Sweep through the enemy ranks!
This strike covered an area of three zhang in radius, leaving no place to hide!
Zhong Xuan raised an eyebrow and leaned back like a willow swaying in the wind.
Bao Tiegun swept past his nose, the wind from the gun making his clothes flutter loudly.
As he leaned back, he thrust his right hand forward.
The broken rod emerged from under the armpit and gently touched Yuantong's waist.
Yuantong felt a numbness in his lower back, couldn't catch his breath, and the golden light around his body suddenly dimmed.
He staggered two steps, the iron rod clattered to the ground, and he gasped for breath.
The Copper Head and Iron Bones Technique... was broken by sheer force!
A deathly silence fell over the area, and everyone could see that the golden light was fading rapidly.
The last bit of incense ash fell into the incense burner.
"Time's up," the monk in charge of keeping time said blankly.
Yuantong's legs buckled, and he almost fell. He stared at the boy standing three steps away.
We lost?
His round face turned pale and then flushed, his lips trembled, and he couldn't speak.
Zhong Xuan put away the red-tasseled staff and clasped his hands in a fist salute.
He didn't say anything.
In his view, whatever the victor says sometimes sounds like a mockery of the loser.
The most cultured behavior is to keep quiet—to keep quiet as much as possible.
Yuantong was also stunned when he saw that the other party remained silent.
What does this mean?
At this moment, several young monks nearby suddenly started shouting.
"No, no! That just now he's out of the game!"
"Look, his feet are outside the circle!"
"He lost!"
People nearby looked in that direction!
When the boy leaned back to dodge the stick, he did indeed take several steps back.
Now it's just outside the circle line, more than two steps away.
"Yes, yes, yes! He's moved more than ten feet away! The coach should win!"
"The coach is amazing! He's pushed him out of the spotlight!"
As Yuantong listened to these words, the embarrassment on his face slowly faded, replaced by unexpected joy.
Zhong Xuan smiled and finally nodded: "I lost the sparring match, but an incense stick has passed."
Yuantong was taken aback before realizing this!
Chief Jingchen slowly stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Zhong Xuan's face for a moment.
He glanced again at the broken gun barrel on the ground, before his gaze finally settled back on the boy's calm face.
"Yuantong, step down," he said calmly.
Yuantong felt as if he had been granted a pardon, clasped his hands in a gesture of respect, picked up the iron rod, and stepped aside.
The head monk turned to the surroundings, his voice not loud, but clear enough to reach everyone's ears: "Since the fight has lasted for the duration of an incense stick, and this boy has not fallen, according to the rules, he shall be accepted as a disciple of my Golden Light Temple, personally instructed by me, and brought back to the temple for discipline and atonement."
He looked at Zhong Xuan, his expression both dignified and compassionate: "As for those three lives, our temple will perform proper rituals to help them pass on. You will keep vigil for them for a hundred days to absolve this karmic debt of killing."
As soon as Chief Jingchen finished speaking, the surrounding people nodded in agreement, feeling that the verdict was fair.
Three lives lost, and three months of mourning is already an act of compassion.
Although some people were reluctant, they could not disobey Chief Abbot Jingchen.
Zhong Xuan stood holding the pole, about to speak.
"Wait a minute."
A clear, cool voice rang out, and everyone looked in the direction of the voice. Abbess Jingyuan slowly stepped forward.
She was dressed in white, her jade bottle gleaming warmly in the firelight.
"Your Excellency's words are inappropriate."
She bowed slightly: "This humble nun has something to say."
Abbot Jingchen raised an eyebrow slightly: "Please speak, Abbess."
With a compassionate and gentle expression, Abbess Jingyuan said, "In Buddhism, the salvation of people should be based on karmic affinity, and people should not be forcibly saved."
She turned to Zhong Xuan, her gaze falling on his young face, and said softly, "I have seen everything you have said and done. Although you had your reasons, you have still committed the sin of killing. The abbot ordered you to return to the temple with him under the pretext of guarding the spirit to clear your karma. I think this is inappropriate. It would be better if you returned to the nunnery with me and understood the cause and effect. This is the right path to liberation."
Upon hearing this, Chief Abbot Jingchen's expression changed slightly, and the surrounding area erupted in uproar.
"What does this nun mean?"
"The chief has already made the judgment; what right does she have to interrupt?"
Abbess Jingyuan looked at Zhong Xuan and asked gently, "Benefactor, this humble nun asks you—do you believe in your heart that you are wrong?"
Zhong Xuan raised his head and met her gaze.
His eyes were as gentle as a mirror, and he spoke slowly and calmly, uttering only four words:
I disagree.
The fat woman gasped, about to start cursing, but was pulled back by the person next to her.
Several Taoist priests stared wide-eyed, their faces filled with disbelief.
This kid is way too arrogant!
Both the abbot of Jinguang Temple and this nun who had her limbs regenerated were willing to protect him, yet he was still so ungrateful.
Many pedestrians on the long street had this expression and were thinking this.
Master Jingyuan nodded, as if she had expected this.
"In that case, this humble nun should take you back to Shuiyue Nunnery."
She said, word by word, "There is a copy of the Lotus Sutra in the nunnery. You must recite it ten thousand times and copy it ten thousand times. When you have achieved success in your practice, you will understand cause and effect and eliminate your sins. You will not miss either opportunity."
As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd erupted in uproar.
"Shuiyue Nunnery will accept him?! But isn't that a nunnery?"
"And this isn't an ordinary nunnery; it's said to be a sacred place where Guanyin Bodhisattva personally bestowed treasures!"
"Recite it ten thousand times and copy it ten thousand times? How many years would that take?"
"That's still better than keeping vigil for three months! Keeping vigil is atonement, this is spiritual practice!"
"What do you know? Copying scriptures ten thousand times is an immense act of merit! What good fortune this young man has!"
People have different opinions.
Some people even envy the act of copying scriptures, considering it a meritorious deed.
Upon hearing this, the plump woman in the elegant clothes in the crowd immediately changed her expression.
"No! He killed my husband, how can we let him off so easily!"
The fat woman threw herself before the corpse, pounding the ground and wailing, "He must pay with his life!"
The Taoist priest's disciples joined in the clamor: "My master died unjustly! These accomplices of the demon monkey should be captured and imprisoned in the Demon-Locking Tower!"
They became more and more agitated as they talked, and some even rolled up their sleeves, as if they were about to rush forward and fight.
Master Jingyuan raised her eyes and glanced indifferently at the crying children.
Just one glance.
Her clear gaze was gentle and peaceful, yet it seemed to carry an invisible, immense power.
Practitioners possess three treasures: essence, energy, and spirit. When the spirit is strengthened, one can command respect with a single glance.
This nun is clearly highly skilled in spiritual practice.
The fat woman opened her mouth, but the sound was stuck in her throat and she couldn't make a sound.
The Taoist priests paused, exchanged glances, and their arrogant demeanor inexplicably diminished.
The surrounding noise gradually subsided, turning into murmurs.