Chapter 62: Victory and Defeat

Ning Wanjun's attempt to probe Huo Yuanzhen yielded no expected result, which only deepened her sense of guilt. As Iron Ox arrived recently, Ning Wanjun said, "Iron Ox, you should return. I just want to tell you, stay at Shaolin from now on. It's better for you to become a monk and stay by your abbot's side. It's far better than being by my side, a mere woman."

Iron Ox nodded. "Miss, I also like staying at Shaolin."

"Go then. From now on, you are you, and we, along with your past life, shall no longer have any connection."

Iron Ox nodded in agreement.

"After you return, tell your abbot that I have a question I cannot resolve. After your victory in today's arena, I will personally visit Shaolin to seek his wisdom."

Iron Ox nodded again and asked, "Miss, do you know that we will win?"

Ning Wanjun sighed softly. "It depends on your abbot's will. If he wants to win, then he will."

Iron Ox saluted her once more and turned to leave.

Suddenly, Ning Wanjun called out to him, "By the way, is Da Huang still on the mountain?"

"Yes, Da Huang has been on the back mountain all this time. We secular disciples often go there to practice martial arts, and I see it quite often. But I can't feed it now since I don't even have meat to eat myself."

"Poor thing. Don't let it follow the monks' diet and turn vegetarian. If I get the chance, I'll go and see it."

Iron Ox didn't understand why his lady suddenly thought of that tiger but once again nodded respectfully before leaving the carriage.

Back at the pavilion, Huo Yuanzhen saw the joy on Iron Ox's face and asked, "Iron Ox, are you happy?"

"Yes, Abbot. Miss said I can stay at Shaolin from now on and even become a monk."

"Your lady seems to be quite enlightened."

Huo Yuanzhen smiled, pleased that his predictions were correct.

"By the way, the lady said she seems to have something she can't understand and wants to ask you in person. She'll come to Shaolin after we win this arena match."

Huo Yuanzhen nodded. He, too, was curious about what Ning Wanjun was up to.

The battle on the arena had reached a boiling point. Huo Yuanzhen never imagined that Yi Jing's martial arts had already reached this level, rivaling Chen Ding's skill.

It was obvious that Yi Jing's strength had greatly increased, likely due to the effects of cultivating the Dragon Elephant Prajna Art. Yi Jing's Tiger-Busting Fist had clearly reached a level of mastery, with every movement exuding the aura of a grandmaster. His punches and kicks were flawless, and he was even holding his ground against Chen Ding's Iron Fan with ease.

While those in the mid-stage of the later stage of internal cultivation can use their internal energy, Chen Ding had clearly not perfected his technique of striking acupoints with the folding fan. As he faced Yi Jing's Tiger-Busting Fist, he gradually fell into a disadvantage.

Unable to strike Yi Jing's acupoints, Chen Ding's advantage was nullified. The more he fought, the more anxious he became. Finally, he gritted his teeth, leaping out of the ring and swinging his folding fan, releasing thirty-six fan rods aimed straight at Yi Jing.

This was Chen Ding's secret move. The folding fan could actually be used as a hidden weapon, a technique he rarely used. But today, he was forced to employ it.

Yi Jing, however, remained calm. As his body spun, he dodged most of the incoming fan rods.

But three of the rods still hit their mark, one in his waist, one in his leg, and the last one struck his forehead.

The two hits to his waist and leg weren't life-threatening, but the one to his forehead caused Yi Jing to stagger. He reached up, gripped the fan rod stuck in his forehead, and pulled at it. Blood began to seep out from between his fingers, and his eyes looked a bit dazed.

"Haha! Little monk, you're not bad. You've managed to push me this far with only external martial arts, but unfortunately, today, Shaolin is doomed. You'll be the first to go!"

Chen Ding sneered as he took a step forward, raising his palm high, ready to strike Yi Jing dead.

At that moment, He Yuan, the Furious Wind Sword, suddenly realized something was wrong and shouted to Chen Ding, "Disciple, be careful! The monk is using tricks!"

But it was too late. Yi Jing's eyes flashed with a bright light. His hand, still covering his forehead, suddenly dropped, and with a powerful fist, he struck Chen Ding in the chest before he could react.

A loud crash echoed through the arena, and Chen Ding was sent flying backward, spitting blood as he tumbled to the edge of the stage.

"You... why!?!"

Chen Ding couldn't utter a word as he pointed weakly at Yi Jing.

Yi Jing stepped forward, pulling the fan rod out of his forehead. There was just a small wound, nothing serious at all.

"Chen Ding, you should have known better. The Iron Head Skill is the unique martial art of our abbot. How could you forget about it while fighting with a Shaolin monk? Your over-reliance on your folding fan got the best of you. You've lost, and you have no excuse."

Yi Jing pulled the other two fan rods from his body and kicked Chen Ding off the stage.

Chen Ding's master rushed forward to catch him before he could fall to his death.

"Well done!"

The secular disciples of Shaolin erupted in cheers. Yi Jing, the little monk, was incredible! He had defeated a mid-stage, later stage martial artist.

Yi Jing, enduring the pain, returned to Shaolin's side, where he was greeted as a hero.

This victory was a turning point. Shaolin had not only equalized the score to 2-2 but had also taken down Chen Ding, a key figure from the opposing side. Now, on the Law King Temple's side, only Lei Sword Zhuang Qin and Lightning Sword Shang Ming were left as viable contenders. Meanwhile, Shaolin still had the Abbot, Yi Jing, Hui Wu, and Pu Yin, all of whom were formidable. The odds were in Shaolin's favor.

Sure enough, after Law King Temple lost this round, Shang Ming, the Lightning Sword, could no longer hold back and leaped into the ring, challenging Shaolin.

"Hmph, angry now? Unfortunately, you have no chance anymore."

Huo Yuanzhen muttered softly to himself and then turned to say, "Hui Wu, it's your turn."

"Thank you, Abbot!"

Yue Shan, now a monk named Hui Wu, still had the fighting spirit from his past. Eager for a worthy opponent, he was thrilled at the chance to fight. He wasted no time drawing his cold iron staff and rushing toward the ring, not bothering to speak to Shang Ming and launching a fierce attack immediately.

"How fierce!"

Huo Yuanzhen couldn't help but marvel as the two combatants engaged. Shang Ming's Lightning Sword couldn't match Yue Shan's cold iron staff and was soon on the defensive. Victory was just a matter of time.

After a brief struggle, Shang Ming's lightning sword was knocked away by a powerful blow, and he was forced to jump off the stage in surrender.

With this, Shaolin had won three rounds, and victory was almost within their grasp.

On the Law King Temple's side, morale was collapsing. Even though Zhuang Qin had yet to take the stage, no one believed he could defeat Huo Yuanzhen. The shock from the Abbot's earlier display was still fresh in everyone's minds.

Some people, seeing the situation, quietly slipped away, deciding not to risk their lives any further.

Zhuang Qin, initially willing to fight, took one look at the situation and realized that regardless of the outcome, nothing could change now. He sighed and said, "Enough, Chen Ding and the others brought this on themselves. We've made our point. Second Brother, will you leave with us?"

Second Brother, the Furious Wind Sword He Yuan, who had won earlier but felt humiliated, thought it over and then said, "Fine, let's go. When Chen Ding recovers, let him come to me and apologize. We're leaving now."

As the Four Small Famous Swords from Jiangnan left, Law King Temple lost its backbone. In the blink of an eye, all the outside reinforcements disappeared.

Only Chen Ding's servants and a few young monks from Law King Temple remained, confused and unsure of what to do.

Huo Yuanzhen watched this scene from the other side, pleased. Without their leadership, everything would fall into place.

The local officials of Dengfeng County called for Law King Temple's side several times, but no one responded. Realizing the situation was beyond saving, they simply declared Shaolin the victor of the arena match.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Shaolin had won, and the people were thrilled!

Many of the locals spontaneously shouted the name of Abbot Yi, as if they were fanatics.

Huo Yuanzhen smiled and waved at the villagers, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. Suddenly, he noticed a few Daoists in the crowd, their cold eyes fixed firmly on him.