The thousand-year-old Shaolin Temple rang the bell on Mount Song.
He was the most powerful figure in Shaolin Temple's martial arts world. No matter who mentioned him, he was an existence that everyone in the martial arts world would give a thumbs up to.
Because if you didn't give them a thumbs up, those baldies would let you know what it meant to poop cleanly.
At this moment, in a dark corner of the Shaolin Temple's Scripture Depository, a pair of eyes were browsing through the scriptures in their hands.
This person was none other than Gusu Murong Bo, who had been hiding in the Shaolin Sutra Library for more than ten years.
As the previous head of the Murong Clan, Murong Bo was different from Murong Fu.
The former believed that one needed profound martial arts to restore the country. As long as he became the number one in the world, it did not matter whether he restored the country or not.
At most, he would just create a world and become a king himself.
The latter felt that it was too difficult to be the number one in the world. Hard and boring cultivation was far less than the joy of traveling the Jianghu to recruit soldiers for the future.
Therefore, many years ago, Murong Bo faked his death and left Gusu to come to the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song in the Central Plains.
Until today, he had been hiding in the Sutra Depository, wanting to see the mysteries of the pinnacle of martial arts.
After more than ten years of hiding, Murong Bo felt as if he had entered an uninhabited place, as if he was familiar with his own kitchen.
He picked up a scripture and flipped through it again.
As Murong Bo silently chanted the scriptures, an old monk sweeping the floor outside the Sutra Depository also chanted the scriptures at the same frequency.
It was already night time, and the lampholder monk in the Sutra Depository was adding oil to the oil lamp.
"Senior Brother, have you heard? Jiangnan's martial arts world has been very lively recently.”
"It seems that Prince Xiaoming is reorganizing the Jiangnan martial arts world, and many martial arts aristocratic families have been incorporated.”
The lampholder monk was one big and one small. The small one was holding an oil barrel and had a yearning expression on his face.
"Huike, don't be foolish."
"Martial arts is to strengthen one's body. How can we fight and kill like those martial artists?”
"Senior Brother feels that Prince Xiaoming's governance of Jiangnan's martial arts world might not be a bad thing.”
"For example, that Gusu Murong. If Prince Xiaoming hadn't found out about his whereabouts, who would have known that his family was actually preparing to rebel?”
"That Murong Fu also came to Shaolin before, and Senior Brother even spoke to him. He looked like an elegant young master, but he betrayed his friends for glory and did things that were despicable.”
"Now that Murong Fu has been crippled of his martial arts by Prince Xiaoming, the Murong clan has wiped out the three clans. The once prosperous Gusu Murong is no longer around.”
"This is the martial world you yearn for. It's all treacherous and not for you.”
The big monk explained to the small monk while adding oil to the lamp.
" What did you say? Can you say it again…"
Just as the two monks were lamenting the cruelty of the martial world, a croak-like voice came from the dark.
"Oh my god! Who's there!"
The small monk was shocked and hid behind his senior brother with the oil barrel.
The monk was also shocked. He held Yin and Yang with both hands and focused his attention.
"Who dares to trespass into the Shaolin Sutra Depository!”
The big monk's roar seemed to have the shadow of a lion's roar, shaking half of the Shaolin Temple awake.
"Greetings, masters. May I ask how Gusu Murong is doing?”
Murong Bo, dressed in black, slowly appeared from the shadows. His two malicious eyes stared at the big and small monks.
"Benefactor, Gusu Murong was suspected of rebellion and has been exterminated by Prince Xiaoming.”
"This Penniless Monk would advise Almsgiver to put down your butcher knife and become Buddha on the spot.”
The monk knew that he was no match for the newcomer. The aura of a grandmaster from the other party made him feel like a rabbit on a hawk's head.
"Prince Xiaoming…"
The person in front of the monk was none other than Murong Bo, who had been hiding in the Sutra Depository all day to peek at scriptures.
Because he had not seen anyone all day, Murong Bo had not received any news. It was only now that he learned from the two monks that his Murong family had been exterminated.
He was furious and spat out a mouthful of blood.
After spitting out a mouthful of blood, Murong Bo seemed much more relaxed.
He looked at the two monks and turned around to break the window.
He wanted revenge. He wanted to kill Prince Xiaoming.
Murong Bo's eyes were bloodshot and his mind was a mess. Only one thought was clear, and that was revenge.
"Amitabha!"
Just as Murong Bo rushed out of the Scripture Depository and was about to escape Shaolin Temple…
A gray-robed old monk stood in front of him with a broom in his hand.
"Benefactor, the sea of bitterness is boundless.”
The old monk was so old that no one knew how old he was.
The first time Murong Bo infiltrated Shaolin, the old monk was in this state, sweeping the ground in the Sutra Depository.
This sweep lasted for more than ten years. Looking at the old monk in front of him, Murong Bo's anger calmed down a lot.
"Master, Murong Bo and you have been neighbors for more than ten years. I don't want to kill you.”
Murong Bo didn't think that this old monk could stop him. The reason why he was so polite was really because the old monk was cleaning the courtyard of the Sutra Depository.
"Almsgiver Murong came to Shaolin more than ten years ago. This Penniless Monk did not stop you.”
"However, since you are leaving today, this penniless monk has no choice but to ask.”
"You study Buddhism every day, so you should understand when revenge ends. Why don't you put aside your mortal grudges and stay in the Sutra Depository with green lamps and ancient Buddha? If you continue to cultivate like this, you might be able to see Rulai.”
The old monk's words stunned Murong Bo. He didn't expect the old monk to know that he was hiding in the Sutra Depository more than ten years ago.
"Bullshit! If that wasn't the case, then your family would be exterminated.”
Murong Bo, who was gradually losing his patience, did not want to waste his breath on the old monk. He struck out with his palm, intending to cool the old monk off to the side.
吥--
It was the sound of a palm hitting a quilt.
Murong Bo felt the sensation on his hand and looked at the old monk in front of him in surprise.
"This Penniless Monk feels that my fate with Almsgiver Murong has not been broken, so I ask Almsgiver Murong to stay. You and I can study Buddhism and improve each other.”
There were too many wrinkles on the old monk's face, so much so that he tried his best to make a kind expression, but he looked like a Shar-Pei grinning.
A hand grabbed Murong Bo's wrist. No matter how Murong Bo struggled, he didn't move.
"No, I can't! No! You're actually a top-notch grandmaster!"
Murong Bo didn't know how to describe his feelings.
The realm of the top grandmaster that he had been longing for had actually been reached by the old monk in front of him.
"Let me go! Let go of me! His father and son were already dead, so what was the point of studying Buddhism!”
At this moment, Shaolin Temple had already surrounded the Sutra Depository. The heads of the various halls came to the Sutra Depository with serious expressions.
He saw the old monk pulling Murong Bo into the Sutra Depository.
Peng, the door of the Sutra Library was tightly shut, and Murong Bo was pressed against a cushion.
As the old monk recited the scriptures, Murong Bo closed his eyes in despair.
He struggled and risked his life. Even if he wanted to self-destruct his cultivation base, he was like a doll in the hands of the old monk. He could only let it be and had no strength to resist at all.
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