Why do I have so many masters?

Chapter 108 Flying Hong Luoyu, Jianghu Grudges, The Number One God Thief in the World (2/2)

Hong Luoyu felt as if he were in a dream.

All his past played back in his mind, from leaving home at a young age, apprenticing to learn martial arts, and wandering through Jianghu. It was like a bustling dream world, vividly appearing in his mind before scattering away. Then, it was as if he was hazily falling from the clouds, dropping back into the mortal world.

The sensation of his body slowly re-emerged in his mind.

A tickling sensation at the tip of his nose made it impossible for him to "sleep on," and, rather annoyed, he opened his eyes, only to see a face he wished never to see again. His scalp tingled, and he instantly became as alert as he could be, reflexively shrinking his neck backwards and saying,

"I, you, I, I, I..."

Standing before him, a scholar in a blue robe squatted emotionlessly, twiddling a foxtail grass at his nose. Seeing Hong Luoyu open his eyes, the scholar only glanced at him indifferently, still expressionless, provocatively waving the piece of grass.

Hong Luoyu sneezed loudly, his anger rising as he looked at the face before him. He burst out,

"Stop it! Mr. Ying, it is you, a filthy wretch, a pretty boy, I—"

"Your mother—"

"Stop now, or your grandpa here will—"

"Bla, bla, bla—"

His sleep, it seemed, was rather prolonged; he cursed with great gusto, feeling utterly refreshed, a thrill passing through him. But then, he saw the Scholar drop the grass stalk and slowly stand up, casting a long shadow over him.

A shiver ran down his spine, and his voice abruptly stopped.

It was only then that he realized he had no arms or legs, as if he were merely a wooden pole. Yet, despite this, he felt no pain, causing a sudden chill on his scalp as he cried out,

"You scoundrel, what are you up to now..."

Just then, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his forehead, as memories previously implanted in his mind by the scholar began to awaken. After a moment of disorientation, he understood the changes in the world around him and realized the scholar's identity, his face turning slightly pale.

Before he could speak, he saw the scholar lean over, saw the familiar cold smirk at the corner of his mouth, his heart skipped.

Mr. Ying had already grabbed his collar and hoisted him up.

Hong Luoyu broke out in a cold sweat and tried to ingratiate him with a smile, saying,

"Well, Mr....?"

The scholar gave him a slight smile, relaxing Hong Luoyu's tense heart momentarily; then he noticed the scholar's body suddenly emanate mighty Inner Qi that resonated with the Heaven and Earth, with various auspicious signs appearing around him, including a golden lotus and dragon-elephant apparitions.

With Ming King illusions reinforcing the scholar's somewhat slender frame, Mr. Ying chuckled coldly, threw his hand, exerting his strength, and tossed Hong Luoyu into the air. His right hand lifted his robes, his right leg swung out like a steel whip, striking heavily on Hong Luoyu's buttocks.

Although he now lacked limbs, utilizing only his Inner Strength, he managed to display impressive Qinggong. The scholar's mountain-splitting immense force was nearly entirely dispersed by him. However, the residual force, like an arrow released from the bowstring, shot him far into the distance. Annoyed, he cursed as he sped away,

"Mr. Ying, you—"

"I just found out you secretly—"

Wu Changqing's ears twitched, listening intently. The scholar remained expressionless, right hand raised, with Sword Qi soaring to skies, producing a thunderous noise, then released it, demolishing the heavenly clouds and striking precisely at Hong Luoyu's body, carrying him swiftly away.

The screams were muffled by the roaring Sword Qi, the high-speed impact shattering the clouds and stirring the airflow, creating rain clouds that followed along, catching sunshine, and drawing a rainbow trailing behind the screaming figure.

Wu Changqing's scalp tingled as he regarded the blue-robed scholar, feeling that the man seemed even more daunting than usual. Unable to let this situation continue, he glanced sideways. There, Master Ci sat cross-legged on a rock, eyes closed, chanting scriptures, seemingly in a deep meditative state, isolated from the world.

He then steeled himself as if he hadn't heard Hong Luoyu's words, touched his whiskers, and said,

"Sir, where do you plan to let this fellow fly off to..."

The scholar glanced at him, his expression unchanged, though his body seemed to emanate a coldness.

Cooly, he replied,

"...Rest assured, I have it in mind."

Wu Changqing's heart relaxed slightly as he thought that the scholar still had some reasoning despite everything… Then he saw the corners of the scholar's mouth curving upwards, sketching a cold smile, and said,

"I have removed all the forces of this world acting on him, so he can only fly at this speed."

"I have calculated that before he starves to death, he should be able to fly back from behind."

The elder's expression stiffened.

He looked desperately towards Ci, only to find the monk still sitting cross-legged reciting sutras, seemingly unaware of what had transpired. He raised his hand to his lips and coughed loudly, saying,

"Master Ci?"

After several attempts, the monk finished reciting the scriptures and finally opened his eyes. What he saw was Wu Changqing with a darkened face, removing two cotton plugs from his ears, and said,

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"Why does old Mr. Wu look at this poor monk like this? Is there something wrong?"

"Right, where is that Hong Luoyu?"

Upon hearing this, Wu Changqing felt a suffocating wave of frustration, but seeing Ci's innocent expression, he truly hadn't heard the earlier words and could only silently sigh, letting go of the things one shouldn't know and recounting what he had just seen.

His voice paused slightly; still unable to suppress his curiosity, he pointed at the unusual earplugs in Ci's hands and asked,

"Master, what are these..."

Ci looked at the plugs in his hand, understood the old man's confusion, and said,

"This… Old Mr. Wu, having been away from Jianghu for so long, might not know. This action of mine, truly, is out of necessity…"

After a brief recollection, he explained the reason.

This story began when Hong Luoyu completed his training.

The Qinggong of the Divine Thieves Sect was a unique martial art in Jianghu, unmatched in the Martial Arts World. Hong Luoyu, with his exceptional talent and naturally lighter body by three parts than ordinary people, mastered it by his twenties, surpassing even his own master and becoming the potential number one thief in Jianghu.

Back then, he had committed many grand heists, including several visits inside the Imperial Palace, moving freely amidst the encirclement of elite guards, full of pride and satisfaction. He then set his sights on the Shaolin Temple, the treasure of the world, where the then still sharp-eared Abbot caught him on the spot and subsequently handed him over to Ci for supervision.

It was said that the monk was to convert and remove the demonic thoughts in Hong Luoyu's heart before the thief could be released.

However, unknown to many, being born in the Divine Thieves Sect and raised in the marketplace, after mastering martial arts and wandering the world, Hong felt that a verbal duel was the most invigorating activity. Yet the diversity of dialects across the vast lands implied if the opponent didn't understand one's words, the joy of cursing was significantly reduced.

Therefore, to enjoy this pleasure, he had mastered hundreds of dialects from across Heaven and Earth, and various cursing techniques enough to combine north and south, elegant and vulgar, leading to his opponents' collapse.

The then unmastered Ci had suffered tremendously.

Speaking of this, a somber look appeared on the monk's face.

Wu Changqing, recalling the thief's performance earlier, understood and thought of Ci, who had since wandered Jianghu and seemingly persuaded the thief, following Buddhism's teachings and converting him. He couldn't help but express his admiration,

"Master was truly able to endure him, a truly extraordinary concentration, worthy of being called the Wrathful King."

Ci shook his head, looked down at his palms, and murmured softly,

"No… At that time, I couldn't argue back against him."

"Fortunately, my fists were still bigger than his..."

Wu Changqing startled slightly, looking at the monk in gray before him, seeing him lift his head with a serene expression, and began speaking,

"He talked too much, causing me a headache, making me far from tranquil."

"I had no choice but to use the Great Strength Vajra Palm, letting him experience the weight and tranquility of Buddhism."

"Amitabha…"

PS: Second update