162: Lu Jiuyuan comes to Shaolin Temple!

Shangguan Jinhong stopped about a zhang in front of him, remained silent for a moment, and then said, "Indeed. Your Old Man Tianji’s Staff Technique is still exquisite, but unfortunately, you are old and your Qi is declining, so you lack the stamina to continue.

If you were ten years younger, I would not have been able to defeat you."

"Haha…" Old Man Tianji chuckled, blood continuously gushing from his mouth. "Jiang…hu…from now on…it’s…yours…"

His gaze gradually blurred, as if he wanted to take one last look at this Mortal World. Finally, it settled on his son's grief-stricken face.

"Take good care of…Xiao Hong…She's the one I'm most…worried about…Go find…Li Xunhuan!"

That withered hand finally fell limply.

Old Man Tianji, ranked first on the weapons ranking, passed away just like that.

In the bamboo forest, only the mournful sound of the wind remained, along with Hunchback Sun's uncontrollable sobs.

Shangguan Jinhong watched this scene quietly, his face devoid of joy or sorrow. He turned, no longer looking at the father and son, and slowly walked out of the bamboo forest.

Jing Wuming followed silently.

"Gang Leader, that person…" Jing Wuming's voice was still cold and monotonous, referring to Hunchback Sun.

"No need." Shangguan Jinhong said indifferently:

"The number one in the world is dead; the objective has been achieved. Without Old Man Tianji, the Sun Family is just an ordinary Martial Forest Family. Nothing to worry about!"

His steps were steady, treading over the fallen bamboo leaves one by one. Sunlight pierced through the bamboo gaps, shining on him and casting a long shadow, as if the entire Jianghu was already under his shadow.

His imposing aura naturally grew, and his strength also increased accordingly.

"Are we going to Shaolin Temple?" Jing Wuming asked:

"No, when everyone in the world is focused on Shaolin Temple, when all the Great Masters in the world are gathered at Shaolin Temple, this is our greatest opportunity.

The Golden Money Gang must seize this opportunity to expand rapidly!"

At the window of an inn in the city, Sun Xiaohong seemed to sense something. The teacup in her hand suddenly slipped and shattered.

She stared blankly in the direction of the bamboo forest, two lines of clear tears silently falling.

"Grandpa…"

Mount Song, at the foot of Mount Shaoshi.

The usually quiet mountain path was now bustling with people, with various Jianghu heroes and Martial Forest veterans gathered here.

Since the astonishing news spread that Lu Jiuyuan had broken the eighteen Luohan Formation and demanded someone from Shaolin Temple that day, Shaolin Temple, this ancient thousand-year-old temple, had become the focal point of the entire Jianghu.

Everyone was guessing when Lu Jiuyuan would truly step onto the gates of Shaolin Temple.

Would he dare to arrive on time?

After arriving at Shaolin Temple, would he be there to settle scores? Or to humbly submit? To capture Lin Xianer? Or did he have other plans?

While waiting, various rumors also ran rampant.

About Lin Xianer, about Xin Jian, about Li Xunhuan, and even about the recently deceased Old Man Tianji… truths and falsehoods, mixed in with the dust and clamor, adding to the intrigue of the impending storm.

On the fifteenth day, just past the hour of Si.

The clamor on the mountain path suddenly ceased, and everyone's gaze simultaneously turned towards the foot of the mountain.

In the distance, a clear and melodious music first drifted over, with the plucking of a pipa, the mournful sound of a jade flute, and the bright notes of a bamboo flute, mixed with a peculiar rhythm.

It was neither like Buddhist chants nor secular music, carrying an ethereal and detached meaning, piercing through the noisy crowd and clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"They're here!" someone whispered.

Down the mountain, a procession appeared, steadily ascending the mountain path.

Four women in black, tight-fitting clothes carried a bamboo chair, their steps light and uniform, as if they were treading not on a rugged mountain path, but on flat cloud steps.

Lu Jiuyuan sat upright on the bamboo chair.

To his left, A Fei, in a washed-out blue robe, had a stern face. The broken sword in his hand formed a harmonious contrast with his aloof temperament, and his sharp gaze swept across the front.

However, from his stiff expression, it was evident that he was very nervous under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

He occasionally stumbled while walking.

To his right, You Longsheng, in striking red clothes, had an even more exaggerated, crazed, half-smiling expression on his face. His gaze greedily swept over the surrounding crowd.

Along the way, he had already seen many like-minded individuals, and his murderous intent burned like fire.

Behind the chair, Yun Chang carried a flower basket, her fair hands gently tossing flower petals that scattered with the wind, while the four Plum Orchid Bamboo Chrysanthemum maidens played music.

Han Zhen walked at the very front, holding a large drum in his arms, beating it continuously with a thudding sound.

The appearance of this procession carried a sense of grandeur that was out of place with its surroundings, and a powerful oppressive feeling.

Music, flower fragrance, beautiful maids, powerful individuals… all of these combined to form a highly impactful way of entering.

The Jianghu people on both sides of the mountain path involuntarily retreated, making way for a wide road.

Whispers arose, but no one dared to speak loudly.

"Is that Three Wonders Young Master Lu Jiuyuan? So young! What a grand display."

"Look at the two people beside him, is the one in blue the Grey Swordsman A Fei? Is the one in red You Longsheng from Cangjian Villa? His eyes are so sharp. Why do I feel like he wants to stab me to death just by looking at him?"

"It's Flying Sword Swordsman, you fool!"

"What a grand display… going to Shaolin Temple with musicians and maids?"

"I heard that Lu Fengxian tried to block his way a few days ago and was killed by a single sword strike from him…"

"The Silver Halberd Marquis is dead? The fifth on the weapons ranking!"

"It seems there will truly be a spectacle to watch at Shaolin Temple today!"

The procession, under the gaze of countless eyes, slowly arrived at the wide platform in front of the mountain gate.

The Shaolin Temple mountain gate was tightly closed, but on the square in front of it, dozens of Shaolin monks stood solemnly, led by several eminent monks from the Damo Academy and the Discipline Academy, all with grave expressions, as if facing a formidable enemy.

A silent tension permeated the air.

The music abruptly ceased.

The four women carrying the chair stopped steadily.

Lu Jiuyuan stood ten zhang in front of the mountain gate, his gaze calmly sweeping over the arrayed Shaolin monks, finally settling on the tightly closed vermilion mountain gate.

Han Zhen stepped forward and struck the large drum with a thud.

With his Internal Energy fully channeled, his voice was clear but not loud, yet it clearly spread throughout the entire square, even penetrating beyond the gate walls:

"My Young Master, Three Wonders Young Master Lu Jiuyuan, has arrived as agreed to pay his respects to the temple."

"Please, Abbot Xinhu, Great Master, show yourself."

As his words fell, the entire place was silent.

The whispers on both sides of the mountain path abruptly stopped.

Lu Jiuyuan on the bamboo chair slightly raised his hand, and the music ceased.

The Shaolin Temple mountain gate opened, and led by Abbot Xinhu, the heads of the Damo Academy and Discipline Academy, and eminent monks from various halls, filed out.

Over a hundred warrior monks, holding long staffs, lined up on both sides, solemn and dignified, forming a stark confrontation with Lu Jiuyuan's strangely magnificent procession.

Abbot Xinhu, with his white eyebrows lowered, clasped his hands together and spoke with a voice like a great bell:

"amitabha, Benefactor Lu has arrived at Mount Shaoshi; our temple has failed to welcome you properly.

May I ask, Benefactor, why you have come with such a grand display and caused such a stir?"

Lu Jiuyuan did not stand up; he merely leaned back lazily in the bamboo chair. His gaze swept over Great Master Xinhu, and he smiled indifferently, getting straight to the point:

"Abbot is a straightforward person, so I won't beat around the bush. I have come for only one person."

He paused, his voice clearly spreading throughout the entire square: "Please, Shaolin, hand over the Plum Blossom Bandit, Lin Xianer."