The old monkey's face turned crimson with embarrassment. Eighty Electronic Book (txt02.com) Master Dao Xin didn't pay it much attention, but as the saying goes, "the older one gets, the sharper their mind," how could he not have picked up the meaning behind the words? He recalled that during their last encounter, it was the old monkey who had fled, not Qin Feng. Now it made sense why his descendants were so persistent in insisting that he personally step in—they had been lying all along. The old monkey wasn't really up to par with the Chinese cultivators. "Friend, don't believe him—Chinese people aren't trustworthy," the old monkey quickly interjected. "He truly isn't my match. Last time, he played a trick on me, and I was caught off guard. But in the end, he couldn't do anything to me either. He really isn't my equal!" "Stop explaining. At this point, can I still not help you?" the old monk said, his expression unchanged. The old monkey smiled: "Old friend, as long as we team up to handle the Chinese people, I will never let you down—definitely reward you handsomely!" The old monk shook his head and said: "I'm not here for any reward. As I've always said, once our enemy is dealt with, as long as we each stay in our own lanes, I'll be perfectly content!" The old monkey felt uncomfortable but couldn't show it on his face, so he stammered: "Of course, of course!" Qin, the young lord, hovered in the air, watching the two elders below. He thought: Being invited by a wild monkey to join as an ally means the old monk isn't ordinary—my friend, I must be careful, or I might fall for a trap. He summoned his flying sword to test their strength. Immediately, the old monkey raised two swords and shouted: "Heavenly Net and Earthly Web Formation!" Several dozen sword beams formed a vast net, yet the flying sword smoothly broke through and continued rushing toward them. The old monk raised his nine-ritual staff and murmured: "Bishu Zhana Buddha!" This mantras, much like the "Amitabha Buddha" often recited by the elder monks of the Chinese tradition, carries the same essence. The nine-tribute jade staff at its tip radiated light, and the sword speeding toward it from the center seemed severely wounded—its blade trembling violently, nearly losing control to Qin Feng. He swiftly drew the sword back, now carefully reevaluating the elderly monk who had remained motionless, eyes unlifted. The hierarchy between them was immediately clear—not only between the monk and Qin Feng, but also between himself and the old monkey. The old monkey remained unconvinced. After all, he had spent seventy years in seclusion, diligently practicing every day to achieve his current standing, yet this monk, though constantly reciting sutras and ringing bells, and attending to visits from military and political officials—burdened with mundane affairs—had attained such remarkable martial prowess. The monk maintained a calm demeanor and said, "Friend, if the cultivators are unwilling to engage, then we shall have no choice. Do you agree?" "The elder monkey nodded and said, 'Indeed, that's true—mastering sword-flight is a capability we simply don't possess. How about this: I'll advance first, while you provide support from the side!' The elder monk clasped his hands together and replied, 'There's no other choice; we'll have to go with this plan.' The elder monkey felt confident, knowing he had a solid backing, and since his own strength was naturally superior to the other's, he stepped forward without hesitation, running in small, quick strides while simultaneously launching streams of swordlight. To his surprise, his short legs were surprisingly swift, closing the distance to within just three hundred meters in a matter of moments. Swish, swish—swordlight after swordlight surged toward Qin Feng, who calmly dodged each one in turn. Even more impressive, the elder monk didn't need to move his legs at all—his body simply advanced steadily, the nine-ring bronze staff clinking with a crisp, clear sound. 'Perfect timing,' Qin Shao remarked, then burst his hand-held advanced lightning spell." This was something he had carefully crafted before coming to the Land of the Sun. The power of this advanced Lightning Spell was more than twice that of the Ice Spear Technique, and it possessed the ability to attack autonomously—unless the opponent's movements were faster than lightning, in which case it would be impossible to evade. Crack— A lightning bolt, over forty centimeters in diameter and more than thirty meters in length, descended from the sky and struck the old monkey directly. The old monkey wasn't without time to react—he simply couldn't avoid it. The silver-tinged arcs of lightning surged back and forth across his body, relentlessly tormenting him. His nerves felt numb, and his limbs grew stiff. The old monk shook his head with a touch of resignation, thinking: "You truly aren't up to par with him. It's not shameful to lose, but to admit defeat—now that's something you simply can't bear. After all these decades, you still act so much like you did when you were young—so proud of yourself." The old monk found the old monkey's behavior deeply embarrassing. "Qin Feng, you've been playing tricks." "Old Monkey leaped and shouted, 'If you've got what it takes, come down and fight me to the death! If I don't split you into a pile of meat sauce, I'll take your surname!' Qin Shao smiled, saying, 'That's fair—don't you dare dishonor my family name. Your Sun people don't even qualify to be human, let alone earn a human surname!' 'I'll kill you!' Old Monkey thundered, reaching over and grabbing a stone from beside him, then hurling it at Qin Feng. The stone split mid-air, transforming from one piece into nine smaller fragments, each slicing through the air with a sharp, piercing cry. Clang! Clang! Clang! The flying swords met the stones, cleaving each one in two, sending out countless sparks along the way. 'Great Day of the Buddha's Method!' the old monk raised his bronze staff once more, and a brilliant golden beam shot forth. Qin Shao couldn't dodge in time, the light striking his right rib, instantly piercing his spiritual shield. He felt a powerful blow, and his rib area burned with sharp pain. NND, the old monk isn't ordinary. 'Great Day of the Buddha's Vow!' The nine-ring bronze staff emitted a purple glow this time. Having already suffered a setback earlier, Qin, the young lord, didn't dare to overestimate himself and quickly retreated into the small tripod. The old monk found it hard to accept his sudden disappearance. Why must we do it this way? We're afraid of being ambushed by the cultivators—truly, we're at a loss.