she said, “Old Urchin, please catch a few more bees for me!”

Zhou Botong caught four bees, two had characters just like the other, and the other two didn’t have any. He showed them to Huang Rong who was silent and did not say that Yinggu tattooed the bees again.

“Now, what else do you have to say?” he asked, laughing heartily. “Today you see the Old Urchin’s amazing ability!”

Huang Rong did not reply, she kept murmuring, “Qing Gu Di, Wo Cay Jue, Qing Gu Di, Wo Cay Jue …” She was still pondering the sentence when suddenly a thought came to her mind, “Ah, it is: ‘I am at the bottom of Passionless [Jue Qing] Valley’ [Wo Cay Jue Qing Gu Di]. Who is at the bottom of the Passionless Valley? Could it be Xiang’er?” Her heart was beating faster. She turned her head to look at Zhou Botong, and said, “Old Urchin, these Jade Bees were not yours. They flew in from somewhere else!”

Again the Old Urchin blushed. “Ah, this is weird!” he shouted, “How did you know that?”

“Why wouldn’t I know?” answered Huang Rong. “These few bees have been flying in for some time now.”

“Actually, they have been flying here for a few years,” said Botong, “but I never suspected it and never examined their wings. It was just a few months ago that I found out about it.”

“Is that true it has been a few years?” Huang Rong asked, thinking hard.

“That’s correct! Why would I lie to you?”

Huang Rong stayed silent while she walked back to the house. She wanted to see Reverend Yideng, Yinggu, Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang to discuss these extraordinary bees, which she believed must have come from the Passionless Valley. They agreed that something unusual must have been happening in that valley. Because she was continually thinking about her daughter, she asked Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang to accompany her to the valley.

“We have nothing to do here, let us go together,” Reverend Yideng said. “Your daughter and I met the other day. She was really sweet. The Old Monk likes her very much.”

“Thank you,” said Huang Rong, who was saddened by his remark. She thought, “Looks like Reverend Yideng thinks Xiang’er is in trouble, maybe grave danger; if not, I don’t think he would be willing to leave this peaceful and quiet place to go with us.”

Zhou Botong loved action; how could he be left behind? He offered to come along and even persuaded Yinggu to come too.

Huang Rong was comforted. She had three more highly skilled companions. With six people, she believed not many things or enemies would hinder their endeavor to find Guo Xiang. Even if she faced a formidable enemy, Huang Rong believed they would be able to help her.

And so six people and two eagles started the journey to the Passionless Valley.

In the meantime, Yang Guo realized the appointed meeting time Xiao Longnü had promised him was drawing near. He didn’t dare slow down; he made the trip day and night, only stopping for meals and short rests along the way. He arrived at the Passionless Valley on the second day of the third month. He was five days early from his sixteen-year appointment with Xiao Longnü.

The Passionless Valley was quiet; nobody was around. The magnificent building complex built by the Gongsun family, was reduced to ruins. In the sixteen years since they parted Yang Guo had visited the valley several times. He used to stay for a few days, wishing the Nan Hai Shen Ni would show mercy and let Xiao Longnü meet him earlier. Every time he came it was with enthusiasm; he left the valley dejected.

Now he saw the forest was thick, but the hills were empty, without any trace of Xiao Longnü. He immediately went to the Broken Heart Cliff, crossed the stone bridge to the message carved by Xiao Longnü’s sword on the stone. He lovingly traced the letters with his fingers, and cleaned out the moss at the same time. Afterward he would slowly read the letter, ‘Xiao Longnü addresses my husband Yang-lang, please treasure this, and begs that you fulfill this reunion’. His heart was shaken.

For a whole day he kept looking at the characters. That night, he spent the night sleeping on a rope tied between two trees. The next day he looked around the valley where the Passionless Flowers used to be. He and Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang had destroyed them. The flowers were completely gone; instead, he found out that the flower, which he named Dragon Lady Flower [Long Nu Hua], had spread to other places. He picked a bouquet of these flowers and placed them in front of the characters at the Broken Heart Cliff.

He spent the next few days pacing around. He hadn’t even slept during the last two days. Today was the seventh day of the third month. He stayed close to the Broken Heart Cliff, and never left even a half-step. He waited from morning till noon, from noon till late afternoon. Every time a breeze came, or a flower or a leaf fell down, his heart jumped. He would leap up and look everywhere. Where was Xiao Longnü?

Ever since he talked to Huang Yaoshi, Yang Guo had realized that the ‘Divine Nun of the South Sea’ [Nan Hai Shen Ni] of the ‘Great Wisdom Island’ [Da Zhi Dao]’ existed only in Huang Rong’s imagination. However, looking at the letter his hope was rekindled. He recognized his wife’s handwriting, and he was hoping Xiao Longnü would eventually show up.

The sun was slowly sinking beyond the mountains in the west. Yang Guo’s heart was sinking too. When the sun was half-way down the mountain, he cried. He quickly ran toward higher ground. There he saw the full circle of the sun, and he felt relieved. When the sun was completely set, the day would be over …

Though Yang Guo had climbed to the highest peak, the sun still slowly moved downward, looking like it was being swallowed by the earth. After a while he couldn’t see anything but the empty world and the cold breeze that came with the night. He stood silently for about an hour. Afterward the moon slowly rose until it was high above him. He still stood there, unmoving … like a carved stone statue. Slowly the night was spent but Xiao Longnü was still nowhere to be seen.

Very soon it was dawn. The sun rose again. Another day had begun. The birds were starting to sing, the gentle morning breeze brought the sweet fragrance of the flowers around him. It was a beautiful spring morning. But Yang Guo was oblivious, his heart frozen. He heard a voice in his head, “You fool! She passed away sixteen years ago. She knew she was injured beyond help. She knew you wouldn’t want to live alone. So she killed herself and tricked you into waiting for sixteen years. You stupid fool, she loved you dearly; how would you not know her intention all this time?”

Like a dead man, Yang Guo slowly walked down the peak. He had not had any food nor drink for more than 24 hours. His mouth was dry. He went to a small creek, kneeled down to drink some water. When he saw his reflection in the water, he saw the hair on the side of his head had turned white. He was only thirty-six years old, at the prime of his years. It was untimely for him to have white hair. He also saw his face was dirty. He almost couldn’t recognize himself. He pulled away three strands of his hair; two of the three had turned white.

Yang Guo was very miserable. A poem came into his mind, ‘For ten years life and death are boundless, immeasurable, unforgettable. Lonely graves a thousand li apart, unspeakable desolation. Unfulfilled desire to meet, slowly turns to dust. The hair on the temples white as frost.’ It was the lamentation of Su Dongpo. Yang Guo spent most of his life learning martial arts; his literary skill was limited. Occasionally he would stop by a small wine shop in Jiangnan where he saw this poem hanging on the wall. He felt this poem carried a deep feeling similar to his own; so oftentimes he would read it aloud and unintentionally memorized the poem. He said in his heart, “He thought a ten-year separation was boundless, I have been parted with Long’er for sixteen years. He still had his lonely grave, he knew where his beloved wife’s bones were buried; yet I don’t even know where my wife’s bones are buried.” And then his mind drifted to the second half of that poem, the part where the writer remembered his deceased wife in his dreams at night, ‘In a quiet night a dream came flooding back. A small window of a country home, showing beautiful hair adornments. Face to face yet invisible, only a thousand drops of tears! Year after year dealing with a broken heart. Bright moonlit night, on a small hill nearby.’ He couldn’t help but drowning in sorrows. “I … I have not slept for three whole days and nights … certainly not a single dream would come to me,” he said to himself.

Suddenly he jumped up and ran toward the Broken Heart Cliff. He stood in front of the carved letters, and loudly shouted, “Sixteen years later, meet at this place, the love between husband and wife is profoundly deep, never fail this promise.’ Xiao Longnü! Xiao Longnü! This is your own handwriting. Why didn’t you keep your promise?”

His voice was very loud, like a lion or a tiger’s roar; it echoed from the surrounding mountains, “Why didn’t you keep your promise? Why didn’t you keep your promise?…you keep your promise?…keep your promise?”

Yang Guo had always had a strong character, but this time he was deeply downhearted.

“If Long’Er died sixteen years ago, my life this past sixteen years was in vain,” he thought. He looked into the gorge below the Broken Heart Cliff. A thick fog always covered the bottom all year long. He was never able to penetrate the fog to see the bottom of the gorge. When he threw the half-pill away it took a while for the pill to reach the bottom. He lifted up his head and called very loudly, so that the Dragon Lady Flowers around him were blown away. Then he softly said, “You disappeared without any trace. I have looked for you everywhere, yet there is no sign of you. I just realized it today, that you must have jumped down into this bottomless gorge! You have been there for sixteen years, weren’t you afraid you would be lonely?”

Like a vision he could see clearly in his mind: Xiao Longnü – her white dress gently swaying in the wind, came near him. Then he heard her voice seemingly from below him, “Yang-lang, Yang-lang, let not your heart be sad. Don’t be sad …!” (Yang-lang means my dear husband.)

Suddenly, Yang Guo jumped down into the bottomless gorge …

Guo Xiang followed Jinlun Fawang to the Passionless Valley. Their minds and emotions were a world apart. Fawang was a strange man. When he hated someone, he would be like venomous snake or scorpion; but when he liked someone, he could be extremely loving and kind. He was determined to take the girl as his disciple, his successor; therefore, he tended to every single one of her needs. He treated her like Guo Xiang was his most beloved daughter. But Guo Xiang maintained an aloofness towards him. She continually reminded him how the Long Beard Ghost and the Big Head Ghost died by his hands. She was being difficult with Fawang. Fawang was a highly respected man even when he was still in Tibet; moreover, he held the Fawang [Imperial Priest] position of the Mongolian Empire now. Even Khubilai – the fourth prince, had always showed the utmost respect for him. Guo Xiang was only a teenage girl, but she kept making derogatory remarks to him. Didn’t she mention that he was inferior to Yang Guo, and that he killed people too easily? Fawang was confounded; he didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

Finally, they arrived at the Passionless Valley one day. They were startled by a distant cry, “Why didn’t you keep your promise?” That was Yang Guo’s cry of anguish, anger, desperation, and suffering.

Guo Xiang strained her ears. She thought the voice came from all directions. She was shocked!

“That was Brother Yang!” she shouted. “That was Brother Yang! Let’s go and see!” And she leaped forward, running toward the cliff.

Jinlun Fawang followed not too far behind. He perked up. Didn’t the girl say that he would face his archenemy? From his backpack he took out his five wheels: golden, silver, copper, iron and lead. He held them tight. Yes, he had mastered the tenth level of the ‘Dragon and Elephant Wisdom Dexterity Technique’, but he also remembered that in the past sixteen years, Yang Guo and Xiao Longnü certainly had not wasted their time. Therefore, he did not dare to underestimate them.

When Guo Xiang arrived at the Broken Heart Cliff, she saw Yang Guo standing still with red flowers twirling around him. She was afraid of the gorge. She realized her own level of martial arts and did not dare to come closer. All she could do was call, “Brother Yang, here I am!”

Yang Guo did not respond, he didn’t even seem to hear her. Guo Xiang was confused; she thought the man looked so extraordinary.

“Brother Yang!” she called again. “I still have one of your golden needles! Listen to me, you cannot commit suicide …”

Having said that she ran toward the bridge. But just as she was halfway there, she suddenly saw Yang Guo jump down into the gorge! She was really shocked! Whether it was from her intention to help, or out of her love toward him, she kicked the ground and also jumped down into the gorge …

Jinlun Fawang was about seven or eight ‘zhang’s [about 21 to 24 meters] behind her. He saw something amiss; he exerted his energy to his feet and flew like an arrow toward her. He wanted to grab her. However, he was still one step behind the girl. Guo Xiang’s body had already plummeted down into the bottomless gorge. Fawang was a truly skilled martial artist, and he had guts! Without hesitation he moved swiftly with the ‘Hanging a Golden Hook’ technique [dao gua jin gou], leaped forward and reached. It was an extremely dangerous move, because he could be falling down the gorge as well. He managed to grab the end of Guo Xiang’s robe, but it ripped and the girl’s body kept falling down into the mist below …

“Ah …!” he sighed. His hand still holding tight a piece of Guo Xiang’s clothes, his eyes stared blankly into the bottomless gorge. He stood there for quite a while until his ears heard someone’s calling, “Hey, Bald Monk! What are you doing up there?” He turned his body around to see who was calling him.

There on the hill in front of him stood six people. The one in front was an old man, but had a ruddy face. He was Zhou Botong. Next to him were three ladies, one of whom he knew as Huang Rong. The other two were Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang. Behind them were an elderly couple, one old monk with white hair and beard; the other was a lady in black. He didn’t know either Reverend Yideng or Yinggu. But he was a third part scared because he remembered Zhou Botong and recalled his high skill. He also knew Huang Rong’s level of martial arts. She was the Eastern Heretic’s daughter and the Northern Beggar’s disciple. He knew his martial arts were comparable to these Central Plains’ experts, yet he was saddened by Guo Xiang’s death. He didn’t have any keenness to fight. Thus he only said, “Miss Guo Xiang has fallen into this gorge …”

Hearing him, the six were very shocked, especially Huang Rong. “Was…was this true?” she asked, her voice quivered.

“Why would I lie to you?” answered Jinlun Fawang. “Isn’t this a piece of her clothing?” Then he waved the piece of cloth in his hand.

Huang Rong stared hard, and she recognized her daughter’s clothes. Her body was trembling, her mouth tightly shut.

Zhou Botong was raging mad. “Stinky Monk!” he barked, “Why did you kill her? Oh, you are so ruthless!”

“It wasn’t me,” Fawang answered meekly.

“Why would somebody jump down into the gorge without any reason?” shouted Botong. “You must have pushed her! Or you made her jump!”

Fawang shook his head. “No, I didn’t do either,” he countered, “I wanted to take her as my disciple, I wanted to make her my successor! Why would I do her any harm …?”

“Phooey!” Botong spat. “That was a really nice old fart! Her grandfather is the Old Master Huang! Her father is Guo Jing! Her mother is this little Huang Rong! Which of these three is not superior to you, Stinky Monk? Why in the world would she take you as her master and inherit your stinky skills? Even if I, the Old Urchin, have mastered only some ‘Three Legged Cat’ techniques, those techniques are far superior to your junk copper and rusty iron wheels!”

They were quite a distance apart, but the old man’s spit had reached Fawang, forcing him to elude it. That spit shot past like a bullet. Fawang was very impressed.

Botong was delighted with Fawang’s silence. He shouted again, “Didn’t she refuse to take you as her master? Weren’t you determined to take her as your disciple? Yes or no?”

Fawang nodded his head. How could he answer otherwise?

“There! You see?” Botong shouted again, “You pushed her into the gorge!”

Fawang was startled, and then he heaved a sigh. “I didn’t push her,” he said, “I don’t even know why she wanted to kill herself …”

Huang Rong meanwhile, was able to calm herself. She gritted her teeth, lifted up her staff and ran toward Jinlun Fawang. She surrounded the monk with ‘sealing’ techniques. Her staff floated around Fawang’s body, surrounding him from every direction. Huang Rong was driven by anger at her daughter’s death, her attacks were deadly.

Although Fawang’s martial arts skill was higher than Huang Rong’s, the stick technique was exquisite; he did not dare to parry the attacks head-on. Moreover, Botong was standing by, ready to assist Huang Rong. To make matters worse, they were fighting on very narrow ground. Fawang stepped about three feet back, then he kicked his left foot and with a loud whistling sound he jumped over Huang Rong’s head.

Huang Rong attacked upward, but her stick was parried by Fawang’s silver wheel. Both weapons collided with a loud noise. After taking a deep breath Huang Rong turned around only to see Zhou Botong had started to fight the monk.

Fawang put his wheels back into his bag. It was because Zhou Botong was barehanded. As a sect leader, he must maintain his pride. The opponent was barehanded; he couldn’t wield a weapon.

Huang Rong ran back and as soon as he was within reach, she thrust her stick for another attack.

After mastering the tenth level of the ‘Dragon and Elephant Wisdom Dexterity’, this would be the first time Fawang had an opportunity to test out this new skill against other experts. He saw Zhou Botong raise his fists and attack, so he too raised his fists wanting to fight Zhou Botong’s fists head on. Before they actually exchanged blows, Zhou Botong could hear a series of light popping sounds coming from Fawang’s hands.

Zhou Botong was startled and did not dare to receive the blow straight on. Zhou Botong bent his elbow a bit and used his ‘Vacant Fists’ skill.

The blow by Fawang had as much power as 1000 jin-(1 jin is 1/2 kilogram/1lb). One could not say it was comparable to the strength of dragons or elephants but it was impossible for mere flesh and bone to receive such a blow. But when he intercepted the fist of Zhou Botong, it felt empty and vacant like there was no strength in it at all. He was somewhat shocked and used his left palm to strike out again.

Zhou Botong felt that his opponent’s power was incredible; he had never experienced something like this before. Zhou Botong loved martial arts and whenever he met someone who had a special skill he would challenge that individual to a duel. He had encountered numerous martial artists in his life; but even he had never heard of, or seen, such strong power as released by Fawang. He did not know what skill Fawang used, so he used his seventy-two stance ‘Vacant Fists’ to battle him. He used void to intercept solid and nothingness to block solidity. By doing so, he rendered the awesome power of Fawang useless; but it was also impossible for him to wound his adversary.

Fawang had attacked with several stances now, yet it seems his stances could not even tickle his opponent. He became frustrated that his dexterity, which he trained for many years, had not helped him to gain the upper hand.

At this point he noticed a whooshing wind from behind; it was Huang Rong who used her bamboo stick to attack his ‘ling tai’ [soul platform] accupoint. He raised his hand to block that attack and with one blow he had broken the bamboo stick into two halves. The remaining energy released by that blow sent the dust flying upwards and grit to surge around.

Huang Rong was stunned and leapt aside, she thought, “This awful monk was quite formidable sixteen years ago, but now he seems to be even more powerful. That palm of his was both strange and incredible, what kind of martial arts could that be?”

Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang saw that Huang Rong was in an unfavorable situation, they both attacked Fawang from two sides. One was using a jade flute and the other a sword. Huang Rong called out, “Be careful!” As soon as she finished, there were two cracking sounds. Both flute and sword were broken.

Fawang was saddened by the tragic death of Guo Xiang; he had no intentions of harming anyone else now. He yelled, “Out of my way!” And he did not pursue Lu Wushuang and Cheng Ying.

Suddenly a black figure appeared and Yinggu was standing next to him and had started to attack him; Fawang moved out his palm wanting to strike her on the waist. Yinggu’s martial arts skill was inferior to Huang Rong’s, but she was trained in the ‘Loach Maneuvers’ [ni qiu gong]; therefore, she was very good at evading and dodging. When she noticed an incredible force coming towards her, she made two turns and three shuns and cleverly avoided that blow. Fawang did not know that her martial arts had not yet reached the level of a first rate martial arts expert, but somehow she strangely managed to avoid two of his fist attacks. He was quite shocked to see this; furthermore he felt that his incredible skill was unable to overcome the two opponents now. He was becoming frightened and did not want to engage in any further combat. He quickly moved away from Yinggu. Yinggu had put in everything she had to evade those two blows and was happy to see Fawang turning away from her. She did not dare attack again. Zhou Botong yelled, “Don’t run!” and he gave chase.

Fawang was about to turn around to parry any attack that came his way; but then he heard a light sound coming towards him. A luxuriant but gentle energy force was surging towards his face. Reverend Yideng had used his renowned “Solitary Yang Finger” to block Jinlun Fawang. Fawang had not considered this monk to be an expert; little did he realize that the energy released from his index finger was that powerful. Reverend Yideng’s level of the “Solitary Yang Finger” had reached the level of ultimate proficiency and perfection, the god-like energy released was pure, gentle but also abundant and forceful; impossible to block.

Fawang was shocked and moved aside to avoid that blast; he immediately returned with a palm attack. Reverend Yideng saw that his palm was extremely fierce and aggressive and did not dare to block it; he glided away a few steps.

One was an enlightened, eminent Buddhist monk from the south; the other was an extraordinary Buddhist virtuoso from the west; each had just exchanged one stance and did not dare to underestimate his adversary.

Zhou Botong enjoyed his one-on-one duel with the Fawang, but when Reverend Yideng joined the battle he felt it was uninteresting. So he stood aside and observed the battle.

In the beginning there was only one meter or so in between Reverend Yideng and Fawang; but soon, after dodging palm blasts and evading finger fire, the gap between them gradually became wider. They were now standing about four meters apart from each other and used their internal strengths to battle each other from afar.

Huang Rong was observing from the side and saw that the condensation emitted from Reverend Yideng’s head was becoming denser and denser. She knew that he kept gathering his internal power and feared that, because of his old age, he would not be able to withstand Fawang.

She was devastated by the death of her beloved daughter and wished to step in and help but knew the two of them were battling each other with internal energy and could not intervene now. She did not know what to do at this point, and then she suddenly heard her eagles shrieking. She whistled to them and pointed at Fawang.

The pair of white eagles called loudly and dove towards the head of Fawang. If it was the Divine Eagle of Yang Guo, Fawang might be a bit afraid. Even though these two white eagles were grand, they were still ordinary birds, Fawang was not afraid of mere birds. He was still battling Reverend Yideng with everything he had and could not divert his attention to something else. Suddenly a pair of white eagles dove towards him; he could only use his left palm to strike out at the eagles. Two forceful palm energies surged towards the eagles. The eagles could not cope with such force and immediately flew up higher. Nonetheless because of this diversion Reverend Yideng immediately gained the upper hand. Fawang struck out a few times with his left palm bringing the battle to a draw again.

The eagles heard the repeated commands from Huang Rong, but their enemy’s power was too strong and could only resort to creating a diversion. They would cry out loudly and make diving attacks at Fawang, but when they were a few centimeters away from him they would withdraw the attacks. They could avoid his palms but they could not injure him. They only managed to disturb the concentration of Fawang.

When experts are in battle, their concentration must be at its peak. That was the only way their internal strengths could be fully utilized. The palm energies released by Fawang were superior to Reverend Yideng’s but when it came to self cultivation he was very much inferior to the Reverend. Furthermore he was intensely saddened by the lost of Guo Xiang, which affected his state of mind and now the eagles kept pestering him adding more frustration to his spirits.

Because of his frustration, his palm energies were affected. Reverend Yideng smiled and made a step forward. Huang Rong saw Reverend Yideng advancing; she raised her voice and called out: “Guo Jing, Yang Guo! You’re here too? Let us capture him together!”

Guo Jing was her husband; she would never call out his full name, but her intention was to frighten Fawang. If she called out ‘Brother Jing’, Fawang would probably think ‘Who is that?’ And the effect of her trick would not be so effective.

Her trick worked and Fawang panicked when he heard the names Guo Jing and Yang Guo; he thought, “Those two experts are here too. I will not live to see another day.”

At this point, Reverend Yideng made half a step forward again. In mid-air the eagles saw an advantage and the female eagle screeched and dove towards the face of Fawang. Her claws were aimed for his eyes. Fawang cursed, “Hellish bird!” and raised his left palm to hit the eagle.

The female eagle broke off her attack when she was about four meters away from Fawang, it was only meant to be another diversion. The male eagle silently came in from the side and when Fawang noticed, his right claw had almost grabbed his baldhead. Fawang was both angry and shocked; he whisked his palm hitting the eagle on its breast. By this time the male eagle had seized Fawang’s Buddhist hat and was flying away. The whisked palm of Fawang was incredible and the eagle could not withstand it. The male eagle made somersault in mid-air and fell into the deep gorge.

Huang Rong, Cheng Ying, Lu Wushuang and Yinggu called out with shock.

Zhou Botong became angry and yelled, “Damn monk! The Old Urchin will disregard Wulin traditions today and fight you too.” He raised his fist and attacked Fawang from the back.

The female eagle heard the shriek of the male eagle and did not see it flying up from the gorge; she too dove towards the chasm and did not fly back up immediately.

Fawang was attacked from both sides and was afraid now. Although he had high martial arts skills, how could he withstand the combined attacks of two great martial arts masters? He lost his appetite for the fight and took out his golden and silver wheels to block the ‘Solitary Yang Finger’ and ‘Vacant Fists’. He leaned to the left and leapt up towards the left and he gained access to the plains area of the valley. Zhou Botong yelled and gave chase.

Fawang had gone through a lot to escape and was running as fast as possible; he knew if he was detained by Zhou Botong, he would have to fight at least another few hundred stances to determine a victor. Furthermore, if the old monk took advantage of the situation, he would surely perish here in this valley. Ahead was a thick forest and he was running towards it, when suddenly a light sound was heading towards him; it was a small stone.

He was still a hundred paces or so away from the forest, but he did not know who shot that little stone towards him. The energy was incredible, although it was only a small stone the whooshing sound emitted by it was very loud. It was aimed directly at his face. Fawang raised his silver wheel and blocked the stone. It broke into dozens small pieces and scattered around; but two of them hit him on the face. He was not injured, but he certainly felt the pain.

He thought, “That small rock was shot from afar and shook my wheel. This person’s internal strength is not inferior to the Old Urchin and the old monk, how is it possible that another such expert exists?”

While he was stunned for a minute, an old man in a long green robe walked out of the forest. He looked very suave and distinguished. Zhou Botong was happy to see him and shouted, “Old Heretic Huang! This damn monk is responsible for the death of your granddaughter. Let us capture him together.”

The distinguished old man was the Master of the Peach Blossom Island, Huang Yaoshi. After he and Yang Guo went their separate ways he decided to wander around in th