Fantasy: I Am the Villain.

Chapter Seventy-Three: The Matter is Over (Part Nine)

Bai Ke arrived just in time, and the show was far from over. Murong Fu and his son were eager to leave, but Qiao Feng was relentlessly pursuing them and preventing them from going.

Over the past few decades, the older generation has fought countless times in the Sutra Repository. Upon hearing that they had made a mistake in their cultivation, they no longer had the heart to fight with others.

Only the two younger generation, Qiao Feng and Murong Fu, couldn't let go of this anger. Qiao Feng was driven by the hatred of killing his mother, coupled with the resentment he felt from being ostracized by the martial arts world of the Central Plains in recent days.

Now that the culprit has been found, and Murong Bo is old and suffering from the pain of being pierced by thousands of needles three times a day, Qiao Feng does not want to take advantage of him.

However, as the saying goes, a son pays for his father's debts. Murong Bo caused him and his father to be separated for decades, so he will let him taste the pain of losing his son in middle age.

Murong Fu was proud and arrogant, and although he didn't want to beg the sweeping monk to cure his father's illness, he was in a hurry to leave.

But deep down he looked down on barbarians like Qiao Feng. Although the Great Yan had long been destroyed, he always thought of himself as a nobleman and how could he tolerate such a peasant challenging him?

The two were instantly enraged. In addition, they had already formed a grudge during the previous battle at Shaoshi Mountain. Murong Fu was indignant that he had been defeated by Duan Yu first, and then ridiculed by that inexplicable Young Master Bai.

These lowly beggars from the Beggars' Sect actually want to seek an explanation from their leader and take revenge? That's just wishful thinking.

He was taught from a young age that he was a descendant of the Great Yan and that he should dedicate his life to the restoration of the Great Yan. He had witnessed his father's travels and struggles throughout the land since childhood.

He single-handedly provoked a conflict between the military leaders of the Liao and Song dynasties, and in the end, he even faked his death and went into seclusion. How could a peasant like Qiao Feng understand such a spirit of sacrifice?

Moreover, their own father had given them an opportunity to join him in this great undertaking, yet Qiao Feng and his son Xiao Yuanshan showed no respect whatsoever; they were truly clueless.

Murong Fu thought to himself, but Qiao Feng didn't have as many schemes in his mind. He simply flew over and slapped Murong Fu on the forehead.

Just then, the sweeping monk bid farewell to the grieving Masters Xuan Sheng and Xuan Mie, and arrived just in time to stop Qiao Feng's palm strike for Murong Fu.

Qiao Feng felt as if the force of his palm strike was reflected on an invisible high wall. Although the wall was invisible and intangible, it was quite resilient, and his unrestrained palm force was completely intercepted.

Qiao Feng was startled. In all his years of wandering the martial world, he had never encountered anyone who could so easily withstand his full-force attack. This old monk seemed unassuming, but his skill was unexpectedly profound.

Judging from his appearance, he was clearly determined to take on the fight between himself and his father and Murong Fu and his father. However, given his high level of martial arts skills, it seemed unlikely that he would be able to avenge his father today.

The thought of revenge flashed through his mind. There was nothing he could do; circumstances were beyond his control. Since it was impossible, he decided not to add to his troubles.

On second thought, he recalled what the sweeping monk had said about his father's injuries. He remembered that his father had looked quite surprised at the time, which must have been exactly the same as what the old monk had said.

He then bowed and pleaded, "I am so eager for revenge that I have offended you, Master. Please forgive me. I only beg you to save my father once."

Before the Sweeper Monk could respond, Qiao Feng rolled over and stood up, pointing at Murong Fu and his son, saying, "Master, please see clearly. My father has committed many murders, all of which were done by that old man Murong. It was truly out of his own hands."

Moreover, as you, Master, know, the value of human relationships and kinship. My father suffered a terrible misfortune many years ago, which created karmic obstacles. I, Qiao Feng, am willing to take the punishment in my father's place. I humbly request your assistance, Master.

The sweeping monk chuckled bitterly and quickly replied, "Benefactor Qiao, you flatter me. As I said before, Benefactor Qiao is kind-hearted and naturally your wishes will come true. Heaven helps those who help themselves. If I have the ability, I will certainly not stand idly by."

Unfortunately, your father's condition is special. To resolve the resentment within Elder Xiao and calm his meridians, we must seek guidance from Buddhist scriptures. This old monk can only point out the right path; I cannot perform miraculous cures. Benefactor Qiao, you have truly troubled this old monk.”

Qiao Feng was shocked upon seeing this. "Then...then what does the master mean...my father...my father still has to eat vegetarian food and chant Buddhist scriptures, and sever all ties with his past life?"

The sweeping monk remained silent, head bowed, only gripping the broom tightly in his hand, sweeping the ground again and again, as if he wanted to sweep away the dust and grime in people's hearts.

He knew that practicing Buddhism would not be of any significant help to their martial arts training, but if they allowed their inner demons to run rampant, it would be another great calamity for the martial arts world.

Their internal injuries were easy to heal. If they did not go to the temple to recuperate, their cultivation would naturally eliminate all the ailments. But how could they bear to lose all their hard work in one day?

Since that's the case, and considering that the two of them are also highly skilled martial artists, it would be better for me to guide them in understanding Buddhism. This way, I can help them avoid detours and also discuss the future of martial arts with them.

Qiao Feng gave the Sweeper Monk a deep look and asked in a low voice, "If we follow your advice, Master, what can we do to alleviate my father's injuries?"

The sweeping monk said calmly, "There is nothing else but to participate in Buddhist teachings or to disperse one's cultivation and start anew." After speaking, he gave Murong Bo, who was standing to the side watching them, a strange look.

"Elder Xiao, may I ask you a question? If I wish to heal your injuries, you and Elder Murong must work together. Would Elder Xiao be willing?"

Xiao Yuanshan's eyes widened, and he shouted in a booming voice, "What? You want me to cooperate with this old scoundrel Murong? No way, absolutely not!"

His answer was firm and unequivocal, leaving no room for negotiation. The sweeping monk sighed softly, "When will this cycle of revenge end? Does Elder Benefactor Xiao insist on seeing Elder Benefactor Murong pass away before he's satisfied?"

Xiao Yuanshan stared at Murong Bo and replied, "Indeed, I have been hiding in the Scripture Pavilion for decades, all for the sake of personally killing all my enemies. Now only that old scoundrel Xiao is left to live, and I will never give up!"

The sweeping monk nodded slightly to show his understanding, but said, "That's easy. Since you insist on doing it this way, then Elder Xiao, please watch and see!"

He put his hands together, murmured a Buddhist chant, and then suddenly struck Murong Bo with a palm strike. Perhaps he was prepared and quickly retreated.

As he retreated, he lightly raised his right hand and struck back at the palm strike that the Sweeper Monk was about to deliver. With a push and a block, he displayed the demeanor of a master, and Qiao Feng and his son couldn't help but cheer for him.