623 The Flute Was Played With No Sound, Whos the One Under the Umbrella (1/2)
Chapter 623: The Flute Was Played With No Sound, Who's the One Under the Umbrella
Translator: TransnEditor: Transn
The blade slid down Master Qi Mei's back. At that moment, a light sound of blade carving bone could be heard. One could imagine what kind of pain Qi Mei was suffering.
However, there was no expression on his face – he was extremely calm. It seemed that what Ning Que's podao was cutting was not his body, but tree bark on the banks of a stream. At the moment Ning Que's podao was about to loosen, he turned around, fanning blood out into the air. He stretched out his hands and struck them out towards Ning Que's face.
Ning Que did not know who this middle-aged monk was, so his first iron arrow was shot at Luo Kedi, whom he knew and was always cautious of. But since this middle-aged monk was standing by Luo Kedi – he must be a bigwig of Buddhism Sect or even – a man of strength similar to Master Boshu in Xuankong Temple.
Therefore, he fought him without holding back. Even when he had cut the middle-aged monk's back with his podao, he did not relax his vigil. He had noticed that – although the podao had left a very cruel wound on the monk's back – its power was eventually countered by the monk's strange trembling defense. The blade had just cut his skin and flesh, but could not cut through the bone, nor did it hurt his internal organs.
As such, the middle-aged monk's counterattack was within Ning Que's expectations. He had already taken action when the two slender, branch-like palms were aimed at his face. The podao in his hands was lifted and cut horizontally from the left, slashing again towards the monk's body along with the majestic Great Spirit.
The blade emitted a shrill whistle as it cut through the air. Although this time it had made a clear sound, the power was not weaker than the first cut coming through the wall. The expression on Qi Mei's face was more and more solemn, both of his palms, which were headed towards Ning Que's face, suddenly spread out in the air and reached towards the side like a shepherd boy playing a flute. He was going to ward off the blade cutting towards his eyes.
Ning Que trembled slightly. He did not believe that this powerful middle-aged monk was an idiot. However, since he dared to grab his podao with bare hands, his hands were certainly not normal.
Looking through the gaps, his eyes caught the edge of the middle-aged monk's hands, which were shining with golden luster. He instantly thought of the old monk he met in the depths of the Wilderness. At that time, the old monk's left hand had caught the first Primordial Thirteen Arrow Ning Que shot. That hand had been glowing with golden light and managed to crack the arrow.
Although Ning Que had recalled that scene, he did not believe this middle-aged monk could use one hand to catch his full-strength slash, infused with Great Spirit. The podao's power did not diminish, but became even more fierce and cut straight towards the monk.
The pinkie of Master Qi Mei's right-hand had collided with the blade, creating a slight sound. Ning Que only felt a strong force passing through the body of his podao to the hilt and then into his palm.
With several slight sounds, Master Qi Mei's fingers fell on the blade one after another as though he were playing the flute, which seemed elegant, but, in fact, was as fast as a flash of lightning.
When Master Qi Mei's five right hand fingers all fell on the blade, the golden color covering his palm suddenly increased and – after a moment – disappeared, as though nothing had happened.
Five powerful forces poured into the strong, heavy blade of the podao, one with each finger, and attacked Ning Que's body. The blade was buzzing and his body was trembling slightly.
Translucent water droplets, condensed from the Great Spirit, in Ning Que's body seemed as if they had felt some kind of threat. Instead of waiting for the recall of Psyche Power, they spun sharply and transported endless power into his arms. That power turned his arms iron-like and continued along the hilt. Podao's power had reached the extreme.
By now, the sharp blade was only a few inches away from Master Qi Mei's cheeks, and it was also just then that his left hand had finally touched Ning Que's podao.
Master Qi Mei's left hand only had two fingers – thumb and forefinger. He only had seven fingers altogether. Once spread out, they were like seven green peaches, which was why he took Qi Mei as his Buddhist monastic name.
Although he only had two fingers, they were more useful and had more power than both hands of most people in the world. This had nothing to do with how many times one used them, but only with the firmness of his Zen mind and his past stories.
Master Qi Mei's left thumb fell on the blade, without sustaining any wounds. He gently carried the blade like a bamboo flute – carefully and cautiously. His right hand – as if covering the tonal holes.
Just at the moment his thumb gently raised the blade, Ning Que felt a strong force, which was like a tide, several feet high, crashing towards him along the podao's body.
His body trembled violently: just like moss on rocks in the tide, without knowing when he would be washed away.
Master Qi Mei's last finger also fell on the blade, on the opposite side of the thumb, and raised the other side of the blade. It still looked as if he was carrying a flute – gentle and calm.
At this moment, the blade was an inch away from his face, but it was hard to push it any further. The senior monk of Xuankong Temple pressed down on the podao with seven fingers, just like he was preparing to play a bamboo flute – gently, with his head lowered.
The scene was seemingly elegant, but, in fact, it was very dangerous.
A fiercer tide followed the first towards the black reef on the shore. The moss on the reef shivered and began to peel off.
Ning Que felt a sharp pain in his chest. The Ocean of Qi had signs of turbulence and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
The blood turned into mist, followed by his loud grunt.
Ning Que forced out all of the Great Spirit in his body. Gorgeous golden glow appeared around the podao, wiping out the blood mist instantly and striking towards Qi Mei's face.
Qi Mei closed his eyes and a light breath of Buddha fell in front of him.
The Haotian Divine Light that had surrounded the podao in Ning Que's hand had cleared off Buddha's breath in a very short amount of time.
Qi Mei took a step back, but his hands were still holding the podao softly and refused to let it go. Therefore, he was no longer in the posture of holding and playing a flute. Instead, he seemed like a naughty shepherd boy, who wanted to grab the flute from his companions.
Of course, he would not let this powerful monk take away his podao. His left pinkie popped out quietly. He cast his fastest Fire Fu and it started burning inbetween the two people.
It usually took a while for Talisman Masters to activate their talismans, unless it was the Infinitive Talisman. Qi Mei had not expected that Ning Que could activate the Fire Fu in such a short period of time. He was forced to loosen his fingers and take a step back.
From Chang'an city to Chaoyang city, the talisman that Ning Que had written in his life the most was Fire Talisman. He used it the most, because Sangsang was afraid of the cold. As it is said: practice makes perfect. When it came to the speed of casting Fire Fu – to say nothing of Mo Shanshan – even if Master Yan Se were to be resurrected, no one could compare with Ning Que.
The Fire Fu turned into a fierce fireball, burning violently between him and Qi Mei like a, seemingly horrible, spherical bolt of lightning. But what was even more horrible was that he made it do this when the talisman had just activated.
He crouched down.
When Qi Mei had loosened his fingers and retreated, the podao in his hand was freed. As Ning Que crouched down, he leapt heavily, whipping the waist of Qi Mei and cutting down sharply between his thigh and abdomen.
Qi Mei's Buddhist monk's robes suddenly tore with a hissing sound and a deep long wound appeared on his groin. He had removed most of the podao's power by that magic method when the blade was near the body. However, there was a reason why Ning Que chose that place to cut: because there were innumerable blood vessels in the groin – once it was injured, blood would gush out.
The lower half of Master Qi Mei was instantly drenched with blood. He looked extremely pathetic, as the blood gushed out from his groin and began to drip down his naked thigh, coupled with the eyebrows scorched by the Fire Fu.
Looking pathetic did not mean losing his ability to fight. If it were ordinary cultivators that had been struck with these two attacks – especially the second one – they would definitely have died from the bleeding. After the first cut, the middle-aged monk might still have had means, so Ning Que held the hilt with both hands and cut his lower abdomen mercilessly – without any hesitation.
With such ruthless swordsmanship, especially this strike, he used Great River Sword Intent of the Sword Sage Liu Bai. Even though he was the chief monk of Xuankong Temple's Hall of Respect, Qi Mei still could not avoid this. So, one could only to see if he could survive.
Unfortunately for Ning Que, today, Buddhism sect and Taoism sect both tried to kill him and Sangsang. Thus, the middle-aged monk would not have come here alone. There were also Luo Kedi and the 18 West-Hill Divine Guards in the field. What made him feel more reprehensive was that Luo Kedi looked big but possessed speed that exceeded his calculations.
Just as his podao cut the abdomen of the middle-aged monk, Luo Kedi's sword came.
Luo Kedi's sword was quite special when compared with ordinary ones. It was much thicker and would have looked like an iron rod, if it were not for its glistening golden color, as well as the flashing runes.
When the sword cut toward Ning Que's back, the small yard, which was darkened and bloody due to the mess created earlier, suddenly became bright. The golden sword seemed to send out an aura of luxury.