Chapter 1, The man from Qi worries about the sky every day, feeling lost and confused

In fact, this tavern was originally surrounded by dozens of households. During festivals, it could earn a considerable amount of cash, and being close to the official road, it often encountered two or three customers. However, with the chaos in the world, the calamity that struck half a month ago left the nearby families either killed or completely fled. Since then, even beggars have become a rare sight on the official road. The fact that this tavern has managed to survive until today is nothing short of a miracle. The calamity that struck half a month ago left the nearby families either killed or completely fled. Since then, even beggars have become a rare sight on the official road. The fact that this tavern has managed to survive until today is nothing short of a miracle

The man from Qi had his left hand tucked into his sleeve and was holding a plate with his right hand, occasionally lowering his head to nibble on a piece of meat, seemingly lost in thought. He was worried about Sun Chaozong when suddenly he heard a clear whistle, and in the blink of an eye, another person appeared in the shop.

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The greasy fellow leaned in the corner, seemingly dozing off, yet his face distinctly radiated a glow

He exclaimed "Oh dear" as he got up, hurriedly bending down to clear away the thick pile of snow at his feet—beneath the snow was not soil, but a hard, cold, murky ice surface

The foreign monk shouted in anger, "What do you want?!" The shopkeeper's face darkened like water, and he threw the iron pot and spatula at the monk's face. He then drew a long knife from behind his waist, saying, "I am Li Siqi, the renowned 'Lightning Blade' of the Ning Prefecture. Please enlighten me, Master." He lunged forward.

At that moment, everyone in the shop paused their activities and, following the gaze of Monk Peng, turned to look at the man. Monk Peng asked in a deep voice, "Who are you?" The man, with a face full of remorse, bowed and replied, "I am Chen Qiren. I had no choice and accidentally damaged the master's weapon. I truly apologize for that." As he spoke, his left hand slightly tilted the counter, and a series of clattering sounds were heard as dozens of round iron pieces fell to the ground, each about two-fifths of an inch thick, appearing remarkably uniform at first glance.

Just as he was barely holding on after fighting for twenty or thirty exchanges, the foreign monk had already encountered perilous moves, leaving him only able to defend and unable to counterattack. In a state of anxiety, he suddenly heard a clear shout beside him: "Master, do not rush, I am here to assist you." Immediately, a long sword joined the fray.

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At this moment, outside the house, the snow began to fall gently once again

The monk raised his hand and said loudly: "Although the Iron-Crowned Old Daoist has proclaimed himself as the North Star of the martial arts world in the Central Plains, the Buddha has never regarded him highly! However, your master has always refrained from opposing the imperial court, yet you have privately allied with the rebels. Are you not afraid of implicating him?" Sun Chaozong sneered and replied: "Listen well, you bald thief, my master is also a dignified Han person; how could he willingly submit to the Tartars and foreign dogs?"

The man from Qi lowered his head and hurried through the snow, stepping unevenly. After walking less than two miles, he suddenly slipped, and with a "crack," he fell over, landing on his back with his legs in the air.

Thus, he began to tremble as he walked southwest, hoping to see a thatched cottage, a living person, to ask for a cup of hot water or to engage in some idle chatter to relieve his boredom. However, as far as the eye could see, there was only white snow, withered grass, and crumbling walls.

The establishment is not large; the main room can only accommodate four square tables and a few long benches. It is still early in the morning, yet there is already a diner—at the eastern end sits a stout monk, rudely devouring a poorly cooked old rooster with great fervor.

Hello, what are you doing? I need to dice this cucumber to stir-fry with meat! Yet, that man seemed to have no appreciation for his exquisite skills; before he could finish cutting, he grabbed Qi Ren by the collar and threw him straight out the door

The man from Qi was forced to retreat a few steps, stepping onto the snow-covered ground. It was only then that he suddenly realized and looked up at the sky: "Oh, the snow has stopped." Just as he was feeling delighted, he heard the monk exclaim: "Good, good, the disciple taught by the Iron-Crowned Daoist has some weight, able to withstand the Buddha's 'Thirty-Six Demon-Subduing Needles', that is also..."

The man from Qi almost rushed into the hall. He jumped in front of the attendant and softly called out, "Boss..." The attendant seemed not to be awake, yet instinctively gestured slightly with his lips towards the back.

The monk was greatly enraged upon hearing this, swiftly turning his body and executing a move called "Boshun Subduing," thrusting his hand like a spear. Monk Peng took half a step back, yet did not block the thrust; instead, he swung his iron staff roundly towards the top of the monk's head. The monk, not daring to risk his life in a head-on clash, hurriedly sidestepped and shouted angrily, "Stinking monk, are you seeking death?!"

The monk's strength was immense, and with a thrust of his hand, beams of golden light surged directly towards Sun Chaozong's face. Sun Chaozong dared not confront him head-on and had no choice but to employ agile maneuvers, using his index finger to target the enemy's vital points in the chest and abdomen. Unfortunately, the shop was too small for him to fully utilize his lightness skills, and he inevitably found himself in perilous situations, gradually reducing his actions to mere defense without any ability to counterattack.

"Is this all there is?" Qi Ren grabbed the steamed bun and covered his frozen fingers, which were as stiff as carrots. "Nowadays, cash is worthless; a hundred guan can't even buy a thousand wen, let alone your tattered bill..." "What can be done? The new Central Bank notes are too brittle and easily torn..." Qi Ren mumbled as he took a large gulp of wine.

"Go ahead, why bother with him?" The monk's voice was as resonant as a bell, "Have the kitchen cut some meat for him." The attendant nodded, smiling in agreement, and hurried into the inner room. Qi Ren looked at the monk with deep gratitude, only to see him gnawing on a table full of chicken bones, spreading his large hand, as big as a fan, across the table to clear space for the dishes.

First, a wisp of thick black smoke appeared, followed by a half-tattered wine banner covered in dust. Then came two rickety wooden doors—upon seeing this, Qi Ren immediately quickened his pace, feeling less cold, with his heart filled with anticipation

He shivered, turned south, and began to call out as if singing: "The sky is collapsing and the earth is cracking..."

The inner room was filled with thick smoke, and a tall, thin man could be faintly seen standing deep within the smoke. In his left hand, he held an iron wok, and in his right hand, a spatula, as if he were cooking. Qi Ren steadied himself and timidly called out: "Boss"

The shop was originally not large, and as the two engaged in a confrontation, they pushed Qi Ren outside the door. He hunched his neck, stamped his feet, and while gulping down the last few sips of wine, he held up a plate filled with meat, intently watching the two of them face off. After barely over thirty exchanges, Sun Chaozong had already fallen to the disadvantage.

The man did not turn back, merely raising the spatula: "Please, Master, do not linger; the diced meat is almost ready... You stay outside and keep watch."

The man from Qi smiled helplessly, raised his eyes to look around, and realized that Sun Chaozong and Li Siqi had long since slipped away without him noticing. Only a foreign monk remained in the shop. The monk wiped the sweat from his forehead, walked over, and stared at the pile of iron pieces on the ground, astonished for a moment, before exclaiming loudly: "What a fine knife! What excellent skill!"

Li Siqi was taken aback for a moment, then replied, "No." As he spoke, he once again wielded the long knife in his right hand. The young man was quite skilled in swordsmanship; although his experience was still limited, he fought alongside the foreign monk. Together, Peng He-shang and Sun Chaozong found it difficult to break through for a while. After exchanging over twenty moves, the young man could see that he was gradually losing ground. Suddenly, Li Siqi charged forward with his knife, shouting, "Kid, are you trying to get yourself killed? Get out of the way!"

Monk Peng chuckled, "This fellow is quite a hindrance; I shall deal with him first." With a flourish of his iron staff, he executed the move "Zhi Zhu Zhong Liu," splitting the enemy into two. He then abandoned the monk and charged directly at his companion. The companion retreated repeatedly, barely managing to fend off a few attacks, becoming increasingly flustered. Monk Peng, taking advantage of the situation, unleashed three lethal strikes in succession, determined to bring his opponent down under his staff.

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Peng and https://m.hetushu.com.com changed their moves extremely quickly. When the first strike missed, he swiftly pulled back with his left hand at the end of the staff and pressed down with his right hand. The tip of the staff trembled and struck towards the incoming person’s chest. Suddenly, a long and dense sound of metal clashing echoed, and he felt the iron staff in his hand suddenly become lighter. He quickly released his right hand, crossing it over his chest, and stepped back to take a closer look. If he hadn’t looked, it would have been fine, but upon seeing it, he was left utterly astonished!

Originally over 8 feet long, a black iron Zen staff now measured less than half its length, with a smooth and even cut at the bowl's width, particularly alarming. Monk Peng raised his eyes and saw a man in a cloth coat and felt hat, holding a chopping board in his left hand and a kitchen knife in his right. It turned out to be the disheveled man who had been standing outside the door watching the scene.

The man from Qi nervously fumbled out a crumpled banknote. The attendant snatched it away, held it up to his eyes, and scrutinized it in the sunlight streaming in from the door: "Well... this will do, just take a seat for now"

The fellow has yet to serve the meat, and this remote village tavern has unexpectedly received another guest—this, in the eyes of Qi Ren, must be an anomaly, surely premeditated. This man, around forty years of age, has a lean build and fair complexion, with a long beard resembling three willow branches beneath his chin, and his appearance is indeed extraordinary and refined. He is draped in a dark cloak, and upon entering, he first brushes off the snowflakes from his cloak before casting a glance at Qi Ren, though his gaze lingers on the monk.

The man from Qi glanced at him, not understanding what he was laughing about. At that moment, a fellow approached and placed a bowl of yellow wine and a half-warm steamed bun in front of the man from Qi

The man from Qi looked up to discern the direction, then stamped his feet hard on the ice—yet the surface remained completely still. "Damn it, is this the Huai River? If even the Huai River is frozen this deep, the ground must be sinking too!"

Inside the shop, the monk Peng was engaged in a fierce battle with the monk Fan, feeling somewhat strained. Suddenly, he noticed Sun Chaozong launching a surprise attack from the side and hurriedly shouted, "Are we going to fight two against one? Would the Buddha fear you?" Monk Peng laughed and replied, "If it's two against one, then so be it; I am not afraid of tarnishing my reputation. Little Sun, let us first work together to deal with this troublesome bald head, and we can discuss other matters later." Sun Chaozong's expression was cold, and he did not respond, only intensifying his movements with both brushes, pressing closer.

At the sound of "when," both individuals held their weapons and exchanged a move. The observer focused intently and saw that the foreign monk wielded a hand-held spike that gleamed with golden light, approximately a foot long, intricately engraved with fine patterns, and adorned at the end with a sizable ruby. Although he had heard that many lamas in the regions of the Western Regions and Tibet favored such peculiar protective weapons, this was the first time he had seen one. Looking again at the man in the dark cloak, he noticed that the weapon he wielded was also an unusual external weapon, resembling an Emei spike but thicker and longer, akin to two iron pens joined together, with a ring in the middle that fit perfectly over the index fingers of both hands. By using wrist strength, it vibrated and spun rapidly, producing a buzzing sound.

"Please, take a look at my skills." The Qi man then took out a round cutting board and casually pulled an old cucumber from the stove. Taking a deep breath, he held the cutting board with his left hand and wielded the kitchen knife with his right, swiftly slicing away. The knife flashed in the air, reflecting cold light, and a row of cucumber slices, as thin as cicada wings, was neatly laid out on the cutting board.

The man was so frightened that he lost his composure and shouted, "Uncle Chen, save me!" Qi Ren, who was watching from outside the shop, felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing these familiar words.

The man, while casting a sidelong glance at the foreign monk, slowly sat down on the nearest bench. The monk, without blinking, fixed his gaze upon him. After a prolonged moment of mutual staring, the man suddenly stood up again: "Bring me two steamed buns; I will take them with me as I walk."

He poked his head out from under the eaves, gnashing his teeth with a "clack-clack" sound, and muttered angrily, "It's only October, and it's snowing so heavily. Is the heavens going mad?"

The heavy snow has not stopped for an entire night

The man came out from the inner room and placed a large plate of chopped cold meat in front of Qi Ren. He then quickly turned to the newcomer and said, "Please have a seat, what would you like to eat?"

After walking less than two miles, the man from Qi unexpectedly discovered a miracle

"Eh," Sun Chaozong said, puzzled, "Brother Li, isn't this person on your side?" It turned out that the one who had made the move was none other than the assistant who had been leaning nearby, seemingly on the verge of falling asleep.

The person had long been on high alert, and seeing the opponent's swift approach, did not dare to confront directly. He quickly executed a "body shift" and dodged to the side. The monk, missing his target, raised his leg and kicked a bench straight towards the opponent's face. The person deftly blocked it with his arm, causing the bench to break into two pieces: "Do you mean to say that you are that notorious bald man from the capital?"

Monk Peng laughed heartily: "Calling for uncles or grandfathers is of no use." With both arms exerting a tremendous force, he brought his weapon crashing down. Just as he was about to strike the enemy's crown, suddenly an object shot in from the side, with a "thud" it blocked the iron staff.

"Very well," Monk Peng measured himself against others, fully aware that he was no match for the man from Qi. Thus, he resentfully said, "Friend Chen possesses great skills and fine weapons. Today, for your sake, I shall spare this troublesome bald man!" As he spoke, he let go of the iron staff, which silently plunged into the hard ground at his feet, leaving only less than half a foot of the staff's head exposed. Suddenly, he clapped his hands, laughed three times towards the sky, took a large step out of the shop, and strode away. The iron staff had been cast down, silently embedding itself in the hard earth, with only less than half a foot of the head visible. He suddenly clapped his hands, laughed three times towards the sky, took a large step out of the shop, and strode away.

Li Siqi nodded: "Mr. Sun, the city lord only sent me to welcome you—this Peng Yingyu... who knows what he has come to Luoshan for." Sun Chaozong let out a cold laugh: "Very well, let us first join forces to eliminate the troublemaker before discussing anything else." With both hands shining with golden light, his index finger spun like a ring, and he leaped once more into the shop.

The man from Qi hurriedly said, "I used to work at 'Da Rou Ju' in Shenqiu City, and most people there know me." The man lifted the dish and walked out from the thick smoke, asking, "'Da Rou Ju' in Shenqiu, quite famous, isn't it? You were doing well, so why come here?" "That is..." Qi's face turned bright red, "The Xiang army and the imperial army have fought several battles, and most of the people in the city have fled, so there are no customers..."

The monk, upon hearing this, was greatly enraged and shouted loudly, lunging forward once more. His voice was already loud, and in the confined space of the room, it resonated even more, causing a buzzing sensation in the ears. The attendant hurriedly covered his ears with his hands, yet still felt a throbbing in his head and a tightness in his chest, nearly gasping for breath

Sun Chaozong's expression was extremely grim as he asked Li Siqi in a low voice, "Brother Li, is this monk Peng also invited by you?" Li Siqi did not respond immediately; instead, he sheathed his long knife, raised both hands with fingers pointing skyward, and softly said, "Do not speak of the stone man's single eye." Sun Chaozong was taken aback, but soon mirrored the gesture and replied, "Stirring the Yellow River will incite rebellion across the land."

The man from Qi has awakened

"The wind and snow are fierce outside," the monk said with a smile, "Why not sit for a while? What is the rush to leave?" The man coldly smiled and replied, "I dare not inquire about the master's Dharma name."

The man from Qi was stunned for a moment, then suddenly reached out and pulled out a dark, grimy kitchen knife from his tattered cotton coat. "What do you intend to do?" the man asked, stepping back, crossing his arms over his chest in surprise.

"Since you recognize me, we are all friends. This friend Chen, there is nothing more to do here, let us go together to the Chahan place for a drink, as a way to express gratitude for your help. What do you think?" Qi Ren was taken aback, and Wang Baobao quickly explained, "My adoptive father has moved nearby, just outside Luoshan City, it is only about six or seven li away. Uncle, please do us the honor of visiting." Qi Ren frowned and said, "With the fall of Shenqiu City, I thought your father could not stay there and must have moved away, but how did he come here?" Wang Baobao quickly explained, "My adoptive father has moved nearby, just outside Luoshan City, it is only about six or seven li away. Uncle, please do us the honor of visiting." Qi Ren frowned and said, "With the fall of Shenqiu City, I thought your father could not stay there and must have moved away, but how did he come here? Could it be..." Wang Baobao smiled and said, "Uncle, you guessed it correctly, but there is no need to spell it out..."

The man from Qi raised his collar high, tightly wrapping it around his neck, then tucked his pair of hands, which were frozen and red, into his sleeves. After stomping his feet, he walked straight into the snow.

The wind grew stronger, the snow fell heavier, and amidst all things, only the sound of nature roared. It seemed as if he were the only living being in the universe, and the heavens and the earth appeared unwilling to spare even this one soul, intent on driving it to its demise. "The sky is about to collapse," yet as long as there is still a breath left, no one is willing to wait for death with their neck exposed; everyone still wishes to make one last struggle—Qiren is no exception.

The man from Qi rearranged the cutting board and the kitchen knife, then turned to ask the attendant: "Bao Bao, why are you dressed like this? If you hadn't called out to me, I wouldn't have recognized you at all"

Wang Baobao pointed to the monk and introduced to Qi Ren: "This master Suo Du, who is mostly from the second signing office of the Board of Rites, is known as the 'Number One Expert of the Northwest.'" Qi Ren thought to himself, so this monk is named Suo Du, no wonder Peng the monk and the others kept calling him 'Sao Tu,' it sounds rather unflattering. He tightened his face, dared not to laugh, and hurriedly stepped forward to pay his respects.

The Qi man let out a sigh, lifted the tattered blue curtain, and rushed straight into the inner room. The attendant seemed to finally understand what was happening and reached out to grab the Qi man: "Hey, hey, what are you going in for?" He grasped at nothing, as the Qi man had already darted inside.

The man from Qi gritted his teeth and stammered, "Boss, do you, do you still need to hire a cook here?" "Hire a cook?" The man turned around and asked, "Who are you, and how did you get in?" The man from Qi was taken aback, then cleared his throat and repeated his earlier question. The man raised the iron wok, pushed the food onto a plate, and impatiently said, "No, no, just hurry up and get out!"

Struggling to rise, he brushed off the thick snowflakes from his cotton-padded jacket. Just as he stretched lazily, the cold wind swept in with the heavy snow, rushing into his collar, causing him to hurriedly hunch down again. Looking up at the sky, the dense clouds hung very low, as if they were about to crash down at any moment, grinding everything on the ground into powder.

The man from Qi would never easily leave this place—here there are houses, lights, living people, and the aroma of food. Although these are ordinary, outside there is none of it.

"Hold on," the monk paused his attack and asked, "How should I address you, Iron Crown Daoist?" The man in the dark cloak replied with a cold laugh, "My lord does not change his name, nor does he alter his surname. It is Sun Chaozong of Yingzhou, 'who governs the heavens and the earth'! Iron Crown Zhenren is a benefactor of my family. What do you intend to do?"

The young man reached up to wipe his face a few times, then pulled off two fake mustaches, revealing his true identity as a delicate-looking youth of about sixteen or seventeen. He sheathed his long sword, cupped his hands in greeting, and smiled, saying: "Uncle Wang, I have met Uncle Chen—had it not been for your rescue, I would surely have met my demise today. How did you come to be in such a state? If it weren't for that black iron kitchen knife and the shark wood cutting board, I would hardly have recognized you, Uncle."

The morning light is faint

It was a small tavern with wooden pillars and earthen walls, topped with thatch, situated far from the village in front and distant from any shops behind

The monk slammed the table and suddenly burst into laughter, saying, "The Buddha can no longer endure this; I have changed my mind." As he spoke, he kicked over a stool and jumped up, his arms raised, charging directly at the man in the dark cloak

The monk shouted, "Good, Monk Peng, you have also arrived!" The yellow light stabilized its form, revealing a tall and thin monk in a yellow robe, holding a pitch-black iron staff as thick as a bowl. At that moment, Monk Peng laughed and said, "I wondered who it was; it turns out to be the troublesome bald monk from the temple. Have you been well?"

Half a month ago, Bianliang sent a thousand households to lead over eight hundred cavalry to attack Luoshan County, but they were defeated by the defending Red Turban Army. The routed troops fled eastward, burning, killing, and plundering wherever they went, leaving no grass behind. Now, in the hundreds of miles south of the Huai River and east and north of Luoshan, it is likely very difficult to find a settled living person.

The foreign monk was greatly enraged: "Do not think that the Shizhi Zhou Tian Bi is unrecognized by anyone; the Buddha can certainly break it!" He swung his chisel and began to carve. Sun Chaozong hurriedly crossed his pen to block, and the two resumed their battle. It was then that Qi Ren realized that the pair of extraordinary weapons was indeed the "Shizhi Zhou Tian Bi" renowned in the martial arts world of the Central Plains, yet he did not know where this foreign monk had seen it before.

The monk, with two loud shouts of "Dang Dang," skillfully deflected the iron pot and spatula thrown at him, laughing heartily as he said, "Good, good, come at me together!" He wielded his hand drill, employing both short and long techniques, and managed to withstand the attacks of the two for just over thirty exchanges, already gaining the upper hand.

Master Peng chuckled and said, "What do you mean by seeking death? This move is called 'Clubbing the Dog's Head.' Isn't it exhilarating?" He unleashed a series of 'Mad Demon Staff Techniques,' filled with offensive maneuvers, directly pressing towards the foreign monk.

Before the words had left his mouth, suddenly another voice erupted outside the shop: "Who is making such a racket here, disturbing people's peaceful dreams? First, let those who dare to eat my three hundred Zen staffs come forward!" The man from Qi was startled by this loud voice and instinctively shrank his neck. Before he could turn around to look, he saw a streak of yellow light rush past him like the wind and dart into the shop.

"I, I," said the Qi person, putting away the knife and the case, reaching into his bosom to fumble around, "... ... Can I take a break, have some wine, and eat something?" The attendant hesitated for a moment, looked at the Qi person, and with a glint in his eye said, "If there is cash, anything is possible"

A half-charred door panel, unable to withstand the weight of the snow, fell with a "crack" beside the broken stove. Then, everything fell silent once more, and everything became indistinct again.

A few rays of sunlight coldly pierced through the thick dark clouds, scattering like fine dust over the vast white snowfield. The ruins and broken walls in the distance and near were all huddled together, moaning in this desolate and lonely winter day

The monk hurriedly thrust his spear back. Suddenly, a beam of golden light emerged, accompanied by a mass of black mist, swirling and rolling, filling the entire shop to the brim. Li Siqi and Sun Chaozong found it impossible to insert their hands, and they could hardly find a place to stand, retreating step by step until they had no choice but to step out the door, standing shoulder to shoulder with the man from Qi.

The man gave a cold smile, lifted the curtain, and handed out the vegetables: "Do you see that this place is not ordinary? In times of chaos and turmoil, there is hardly any way to make a living. You might as well go elsewhere."

Sighing, the man from Qi happily responded and hurriedly chose an empty table to sit down. Before he could settle himself, he heard a monk in the corner burst into laughter, saying, "Good, good"

How can I say this? The sky is about to fall, no wonder the weather has been so unusual this year. There truly seems to be no way forward from here!

The man from Qi was completely absorbed in the knife and the table, utterly unprepared. By the time he regained his senses, he found himself in mid-air. He hurriedly flipped over and steadied himself, but he had already reached the outer room. The attendant, leaning against the door, had clearly overheard the conversation between the two and came over, blinking his eyes: "Go on, there is no way out here, you might as well leave."

A pitiful little sparrow lies quietly in the snow, allowing the swirling snowflakes to cover its frail and helpless body— it has found great liberation, but what about those beings still struggling on the edge of life and death

This person, in his thirties, is tall and thin. In his left hand, he wields a frying pan resembling a shield, while in his right hand, he holds a spatula akin to a knife. He is, in fact, the owner of the restaurant who has been hiding in the back room cooking. His movements are peculiar as he leaps forward a few steps, allowing Sun Chaozong to pass and confronting the foreign monk.