Flower Stealing Master

“You!” Kong Zhi was instantly enraged. As one of the Four Holy Monks of Shaolin, he had mastered eleven of the Shaolin 72 Ultimate Techniques, ranking only behind Xuan Cheng and Fang Zheng within the sect. He had always been proud and aloof, never tolerating insults. 

However, the opponent before him was the leader of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, making him hesitate. Yet, with nowhere to vent his anger, he struck the pavilion’s railing with his palm. With a loud crack, the railing shattered into countless splinters, showcasing the astonishing power of his strike.

Ren Woxing’s eyes narrowed. “Kong Zhi, you bald d0nkey! What’s the meaning of this? Do you think I’m this railing, letting you chop at will? If you have the guts, exchange a few moves with me instead of showing off against lifeless objects. Truly laughable!”

Zhang Sanfeng couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on. Seeing that a fight was about to break out, he wanted to intervene, but Ren Woxing was not part of the Wudang Sect. Since he had come along with good intentions, Zhang Sanfeng found it inappropriate to interfere.

Kong Zhi had barely restrained himself earlier, but upon hearing Ren Woxing’s provocation, he could no longer hold back. With a furious roar, he struck out with his palm.

Xuan Ci sensed the situation was amiss, but Kong Zhi was one of the top experts in the monastery. Once he attacked in anger, it was already too late to stop him.

“Good timing!” Ren Woxing had been provoking Kong Zhi intentionally and was well prepared. Seeing Kong Zhi make the first move, he no longer held back. With a sinister grin, he launched himself forward like a cannonball.

In mere moments, the two had exchanged over a dozen moves. The force from their blows sent shockwaves through the surroundings, making the onlookers’ robes billow.

The experts in the front rows could clearly see the exchange. Kong Zhi had utilized over ten different Shaolin techniques, while Ren Woxing had countered all of them with a single palm technique. Though Ren Woxing’s palm strikes appeared simple, they carried a faint thunderous sound, indicating the extraordinary nature of his technique.

A smirk appeared on Ren Woxing’s lips. “Kong Zhi, though you know many techniques, they are scattered and lack depth. You have breadth but no refinement. Against a true master, you’ll only tie yourself up in knots.”

Kong Zhi had always prided himself on his vast martial knowledge. Hearing such an evaluation, he sneered. “Such arrogance!” Without hesitation, he surged forward with all his internal energy, aiming to injure Ren Woxing while he was speaking.

Unexpectedly, Ren Woxing did not show the slightest panic. Instead, his smirk deepened with mockery.

Just as Kong Zhi was about to strike, he suddenly felt his internal energy being sucked away uncontrollably. Realization dawned on him in horror. “The Cosmic Absorption Technique!”

Fang Zheng, who had been watching closely, immediately sensed the danger. He stepped forward, swept his sleeve, and forcibly separated the two.

Ren Woxing raised an eyebrow. “Master Fang Zheng, your ‘Sleeve Concealing the Universe’ technique is truly refined.”

By this time, Kong Zhi had recovered, but his internal energy was in turmoil. He realized he would be unable to fight again for a while, filling him with both shock and fury. “Ren, you use underhanded tricks!”

Ren Woxing scoffed. “Everyone knows I wield the Cosmic Absorption Technique. If you were reckless and unprepared, how is that my fault?”

Kong Zhi was about to argue further, but Fang Zheng raised a hand to stop him. “Cult Master Ren is correct. My junior brother was outmatched—there is no blame to place. However, I am intrigued and would like to experience your Cosmic Absorption Technique firsthand. Cult Master Ren, please accept my strike.” With that, he lightly struck out with his palm.

The move seemed simple, but halfway through, his palm wavered, splitting into two, then four, then eight. Song Qingshu had seen this technique before when Fang Zheng fought Zhang Sanfeng—this was the Thousand-Hand Buddha Palm, a technique of unpredictable transformations. Song Qingshu was concerned that Ren Woxing had just fought a strong opponent and might not have fully recovered. He was about to step in when Ren Woxing saw his intent and laughed. “No need to worry, dear son-in-law. I can handle this.”

Ren Woxing had just absorbed nearly ten percent of Kong Zhi’s energy, not only avoiding exhaustion but even increasing his strength. Now, in front of so many martial arts elites, he, as the mighty leader of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, was a man of great pride. Determined to establish his dominance, he refused Song Qingshu’s offer to help and met Fang Zheng’s palm head-on.

Ren Woxing had been famous in the martial world for years and immediately recognized the Thousand-Handed Tathagata Palm. He knew that if he delayed even slightly, the technique would escalate to sixteen then thirty-two palms…

Unlike Zhang Sanfeng, he dared not let Fang Zheng build up momentum. With a loud shout, he struck toward Fang Zheng’s right shoulder. Fang Zheng’s left palm slipped under his right, continuing to multiply in phantom-like movements. Ren Woxing leaped and counterattacked with two swift palm strikes.

Kong Zhi, watching intently, marveled at Fang Zheng’s palm techniques. Each strike seemed to multiply in unpredictable ways—something he had never witnessed before. He finally understood why the abbot had always claimed Fang Zheng’s skills surpassed his own.

Shifting his gaze to Ren Woxing, Kong Zhi had previously dismissed his techniques as crude. Even though he lost, he had attributed it to the Cosmic Absorption Technique rather than Ren Woxing’s skill. But now, as an observer, he saw the true brilliance of Ren Woxing’s palm techniques.

Ren Woxing’s palm strikes appeared straightforward, his movements sometimes rigid, but no matter how unpredictable Fang Zheng’s moves were, he always adapted in time. It was clear that the two were evenly matched in skill.

After a prolonged battle, Ren Woxing noticed Fang Zheng’s palm movements slowing slightly. He was delighted. “Your palm techniques are marvelous, but in the end, age catches up with you.”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Determined to assert his dominance, Ren Woxing decided to end the fight quickly. Seeing Fang Zheng’s left palm coming toward him, he let out a roar and met it with lightning speed—secretly using the Cosmic Absorption Technique.

With a crisp slap, their palms met, and both stepped back. Ren Woxing was stunned—Fang Zheng’s internal energy, though soft, was incredibly deep. Even with the Cosmic Absorption Technique, he couldn’t draw any of it away.

Fang Zheng clasped his hands together. “Amitabha!” He seized the moment to launch another palm strike.

Ren Woxing had spent a lifetime in combat. Instead of advancing, he suddenly retreated, launching several rapid strikes while pondering: ‘The Marrow Cleansing Scripture truly deserves its reputation as Shaolin’s greatest divine technique—it neutralizes my Cosmic Absorption Technique! Hmph, but even without it, do you think a pampered old monk can defeat me?’

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