Chapter 153 This Woman is Too Domineering

Chapter 153 This Woman is Too Domineering

Chapter 153 This Woman is Too Domineering

Huashan.

An unknown cliff somewhere.

Millions of catkins are blown by the wind, creating a world of ice sculptures and jade.

"A seven-foot green pole and a ten-foot silk thread, the river and lake ripples with the wind."

The old man in green robe sat on a rock, with a cliff a hundred feet high and bottomless under his feet.

He held a green bamboo fishing pole with a kite tied to the end with silk.

The poor little creature flapped its wings.

From left to right, from right to left, struggling hard.

Unfortunately, this happens over and over again, and it can never escape the fate of being used as bait.

"Chi~"

In the distance, a sharp and long whistle pierced through the flying snow and echoed in the valley.

The kite, which was resting on the cliff, saw the golden flying feathers circling up and down and getting closer.

It flapped its wings desperately, trying to break free from the tough silk on its feet.

“Life and death hang on a thread. Is it the same for birds or people?”

The old man in green robe gently waved the fishing rod and looked at the cunning golden eagle.

Footsteps sounded from behind.

"The wind is clear!"

The old man in green robe said without even turning his head: "I have already retreated three times, why do you still come back?"

The man in the black robe sneered and said, "The world is so big that we can go anywhere. Why do we need you to give up Huashan Mountain?"

"Whether you give in or not, Feng is not your enemy after all."

"Have you been to the Secret Cave at Siguo Cliff? Had you known that the Xuanyin Land at Huashan was destroyed?"

The old man in green robe shook his head and said, "You don't need to go. Mountains and rivers contain energy, and virtue brings fortune. If it weren't for this, Huashan Sect wouldn't have weakened to this point. It's like you're in an empty place, letting you come and go as you please."

The man in the black robe and cloak softened his tone and chuckled, "Do you believe in the theory of destiny, Mr. Feng?"

"I see, that's why you came here."

Feng Qingyang turned around and looked at the man in the black robe and cloak. He was seven feet tall, with extraordinary aura, and a harmonious aura around him. The wind and snow stopped three feet away.

When looking at a person, first look at his eyes. Those phoenix eyes are as bright as stars and extremely domineering.

Feng Qingyang stroked his beard and chuckled, "Grandmaster level three, so you've reached that level too."

The man in the black robe and cloak did not deny it, and said: "Some people say that the world's martial luck is one stone, and seven buckets are stolen by thieves. Therefore, in the past hundred years, no one has entered the third level, and even the second step can be counted on one's fingers."

Feng Qingyang asked: "Did the holy monk from Yanglong Temple tell you?"

The man in the black robe said, "You guessed wrong. The old monk has been practicing silent meditation for ten years. His heart is as dead as ashes and he is about to run out of energy. These words... were said by Fang Zheng from Shaolin Temple."

Feng Qingyang was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter, as if he had heard something extremely funny.

"That old monk, he never gave up. Only with this kind of perseverance could he practice Yi Jin Jing to the great perfection. Many years ago, Feng actually misjudged him."

The man in the black robe and cloak asked, "Are you willing, Mr. Feng?"

Feng Qingyang chuckled and said, "I have lived in seclusion for more than 40 years. I have let go of wealth and glory, grudges, honor and disgrace, and even my progress in martial arts. It would be self-deception to say that I have completely let go. I don't have the state of mind of the monks of Yanglong Temple, but for many things, I can only take one step at a time and see how they go."

The man in the black robe and cloak laughed and said, "So Mr. Feng is scared?"

Feng Qingyang recalled: "Thirteen years ago, Feng first entered the second floor and found Master Fangzheng, the divine monk of Yanglong Temple, and we went to Kunlun Mountain."

The man in the black robe and cloak asked, "How?"

Feng Qingyang sighed, "There were two people on the other side, and the three of us joined forces and barely managed to tie with one of them. It was a tie because that person was only slightly injured, and the youngest guy on our side, Monk Fang Zheng, had his dantian damaged. If it weren't for the Yi Jin Jing he practiced, the world would have lost another Grandmaster." The man in the black robe and cloak heard this story and couldn't help but yearn for it, "It's a pity that I hadn't entered the Grandmaster realm at that time."

Feng Qingyang shook his head and said, "It's useless even if you reach the Grandmaster level. Fortunately, you are not here."

"is it?"

The man in the black robe and cloak sneered when he heard this, raised his right hand, and stretched out his index and middle fingers. A few snowflakes passed through the harmonious aura around him, flew between his two fingers, and turned into an ice needle, about seven inches long and crystal clear.

"Mr. Feng, please teach me!"

The ice needle was across his face, and he shot out with two fingers separated.

"Are you crazy?"

Feng Qingyang suddenly turned around, holding the green bamboo fishing rod in his left hand, and struck out with his right palm swiftly.

The ice needle stopped three feet away from the palm, and the two powerful true energies continued to compete with each other.

After a few breaths, the ice needles broke into pieces. Seeing this, Feng Qingyang took the initiative to withdraw his palm power. He didn't want to fight with the man in the black robe and cloak any further.

"kindness?"

There were actually a few strands of extremely yang energy hidden in the ice needle. After the ice needle shattered, a few strands of true energy flew forward, like a few loaches swimming through a dense net.

Feng Qingyang frowned slightly and raised his hand to block it, but one fish still slipped through the net.

A ray of extremely yang energy touched Mr. Feng's long beard, which he was so proud of. A few white strands of his beard turned black and fell off.

Feng Qingyang sighed inwardly, this person's understanding and application of the principles of Yin and Yang were extremely exquisite, truly making him the most talented newcomer in the martial arts world over the past hundred years.

There are two paths in martial arts: the main path leads to heaven and the other path leads to other paths.

The Yin and Yang of Taoism and the formlessness of Buddhism are both paths to heaven that are no less impressive than the way of the sword.

His eyes were slightly cold: "I didn't mean to belittle you by what I said."

The man in the black robe chuckled and said, "Of course I know that, but it just makes me uncomfortable!"

"That's very rude of you!"

Even though Feng Qingyang had a very good temper, he couldn't help but feel angry. He took a step forward, holding the green bamboo fishing rod in his left hand, and made a sword-drawing gesture.

"Jiji!"

The kite was wailing in the air.

"Humph!"

Feng Qingyang snorted coldly, turned around and sat back on the rock, raising his fishing rod.

The man in the black robe and bamboo hat slowly walked away along the way he came. He was alone when he came and left alone when he left. Between heaven and earth, only the footprints were left, which were gradually covered by the wind and snow.

"flutter!"

The cold kite broke free from the Tianshan snow silk, but before it had time to rejoice in its survival, a ray of golden light swooped down from the sky, extending its claws like iron hooks.

At the critical moment, the snow cicada silk flew in the air and then wrapped around the golden eagle's ankle.

"Chi~"

The golden eagle tore at the snow silk thread, its feathers flying everywhere, and it screamed loudly, revealing its anger of being offended. It is the king of the sky, and has never been deceived by anyone.

The kite finally escaped with its life, flew hundreds of meters away, and landed on an ancient pine tree on the opposite cliff, watching the huge monster take its place.

Feng Qingyang caught a golden eagle, but he was not happy. He stroked his beard and couldn't help cursing, "This woman is too domineering!"

If it had been ten years earlier, he would have ignored the overall situation and would have drawn his sword and stabbed her to death, determined to cut off all her long black hair.

But that person is still very young, only thirty years old, but he can already stand shoulder to shoulder with an old guy like him. If it weren't for the flaws in his skills, it would be hard to imagine...

"No wonder Fang Zheng doesn't care about sectarianism."

(End of this chapter)