Shaolin Temple in Songshan is truly the best martial art in the world. Thousands of years of heritage have given it a sense of transcendence. In the early morning, a clear sound of bells and chimes resounds for dozens of miles, cleansing people's hearts. If you can live under Songshan for a long time, listening to the morning bells and evening drums, even ordinary people can calm down and prolong their lives. Martial artists can calm down and eliminate their inner demons.
But today, the century-long silence of Shaolin Temple is destined to be broken!
The sound of horse hooves shaking the earth came from afar. Looking up, I saw thousands of horses with golden weapons coming here.
Shi Yan frowned and whispered to his senior brother Shi E beside him, "It seems that they are from Mingjiao and Longmen. They are not friendly!"
“I heard that since Yun Chongxiao left Mingjiao and Longmen, they have become puppets of Luoshajiao. But even Yu Luosha was defeated in Kaifeng. I didn’t expect they would dare to come?” Shi’e pondered and said, “Go and gather the disciples of our temple! It seems that a bloody battle is inevitable today!”
"Yes!" Shi Yan nodded and said, "I just don't know if Senior Brother can defeat that Maranta!"
Seeing the Ming Cult's people coming, all the Central Plains warriors, whether they were from the Jialan Temple, Mingyuexuan or other groups, all stayed away.
Since ancient times, people in the Central Plains have hated traitors. Since the Ming Cult became a running dog of the Rakshasa Cult, it was naturally ridiculed by the warriors in the Central Plains and they were ashamed to associate with it.
In the distance, Concubine Lei Ming was standing quietly beside Ming Yuehua, the leader of Ming Yuexuan. One was the Saint Cihang, and the other was the leader of the world's number one women's gang. The two most powerful women in the Central Plains standing side by side showed a momentum that women are as good as men.
"Ming Fei, are you really ready to give up Zhu Jianan?" Ming Yuehua asked.
"What else can we do if we don't give up?" Concubine Lei Ming smiled bitterly and said, "With Emperor Zhao Bing and Song Wen joining forces, and with the support of Qianbei Buzui, Yun Chongxiao, Su Haoran and others, who in the Central Plains can stop them? Besides, the danger from Mongolia is imminent, so we naturally have to put the overall situation first!"
Ming Yuehua smiled and said nothing, as if she didn't want to talk about this topic anymore. She looked into the distance and said, "It's strange. If Zhao Dibing, Song Wen and Zhu Jianan are preparing to fight in Jiangnan, then what's going on in the north? Apart from the Ming Cult, no one from the northern forces, whether it's Wu Chongye of Wu Zhou, the Jia Lan Temple or the Brotherhood of the Little God of Wealth, is coming?"
Concubine Lei Ming was also stunned when she heard this. She slowly glanced at the whole place, nodded silently, and sighed, "Could it be that something big happened in the north?"
Just when everyone was getting impatient, they suddenly heard a voice coming from far away at the foot of Mount Shaoshi: "Tianzhu, Marandha from Nalanda Temple is here to keep his appointment!"
The sound echoed over the Shaolin Temple. At first it was not very loud, but later it was like the rumbling of thunder, shaking the huge bronze bell in the bell tower and making it buzz for a long time.
Everyone in the room was shocked. Even masters like Ming Yuehua and Lei Mingfei could not help but change color and look at each other in disbelief.
This person's internal strength is so strong that it has reached such an incredible level. It is really horrifying!
The Indian 'heir of the divine palm', Maranduo, is indeed worthy of his reputation!
This move of Molantuo was a preemptive move. The heroes in Shaolin Temple fell silent and looked at each other in surprise. They were all shocked by the deep inner strength displayed by this person. In everyone's impression, although Molantuo was famous, he had not been famous for a long time. It was difficult for him to be compared with the half-step broken masters such as Qianbeibuzui and Yun Zhongxiao. However, judging from the skill of transmitting sound over a thousand miles just now, this person's inner strength was as deep as the sea and difficult to measure.
Shi Yan had a deep understanding of meditation and had been in the martial arts world for a long time. Although a look of shock appeared on his face, it was only for a moment. He clasped his hands together and said, "Forgive me for my rudeness. I didn't know that Master Maraṇa had arrived. Please come into the temple for a meeting." His voice was low and soft, and it was like a warm spring breeze that gently floated out of the temple and far down the mountain, showing the Arhat's profound attainments in subduing demons and his power.
Not long after, a burly monk walked into the martial arts arena under the guidance of the monk in charge of reception. When the heroes present saw him, they were all shocked.
This is a tall, thin, dark-skinned Indian with a high nose and deep eyes. He wears an orange-apricot wide white robe. His demeanor is no less imposing than the martial artists around him. His hair is tied in a bun and wrapped in white gauze, which makes his nose look even higher and his eyes look even deeper and unpredictable. At first glance, it is hard to tell whether he is handsome or ugly, and how old he is.
But there is a charm about him that makes people admire him and feel that he is an extraordinary person.
He bowed to all around him and said with a smile: "I am Molanta, greetings to all the Shaolin monks, greetings to all the heroes!" After that, he bowed to Shi Yan and others and said: "I didn't expect that your sect would have to mobilize so many troops and go to such great lengths. I am very sorry, and I would like to apologize to all the masters first."
"Don't be polite, benefactor." Shi Yan put his hands together and bowed, smiling and said, "Master, you are a great monk from Nalanda Temple, a descendant of Buddha Sakyamuni. It is a great honor for you to visit our humble temple! I apologize for the poor hospitality."
"Indeed." Shi'e behind him also snorted coldly and said, "Master, you have come all the way from Nalanda Monastery. You must be exhausted. You must have worked hard along the way."
Shi'e's words were just a veiled criticism of Maraṇa's arrogant behavior of challenging various Buddhist sects along the way.
Marandara just smiled faintly and said nothing. He turned to look at the majestic Shaolin Temple in the distance and couldn't help but exclaimed: "I have heard for a long time that Shaolin Temple is the ancestral home of Zen Buddhism and is known as the best temple in the world. Today I see that it is indeed worthy of its reputation!"
“But I heard that there is an old saying in the Central Plains: A mountain is famous not because of its height, but because of the immortals living there; a river is magical not because of its depth, but because of the dragons living there! I just don’t know if the masters in this Shaolin Temple can live up to the reputation of being the best temple in the world!”
"You!" Shi'e was immediately furious and was about to step forward, but was stopped by Shi Yan, who stepped forward and said with a smile: "We Shaolin monks are of low moral character and cannot be worthy of the century-old foundation created by Patriarch Bodhidharma and Patriarch Huike. I have always felt ashamed."
Marandra said: "Since you are not virtuous, why not let the reputation of the world's number one temple be given to someone with more virtue? Wouldn't that be a pleasure?"
Shi'e looked displeased and said, "So, Master Marandha is very confident that Nalanda Temple is virtuous because of this?"
Marandha raised the corners of his mouth slightly, smiled without saying a word, and made gestures with his hands pointing one to the ground and the other to the sky.
It turns out that according to the Buddhist scriptures, when Sakyamuni was born in a Kshatriya family, he radiated his wisdom and light to illuminate the world in all directions, and golden lotus flowers emerged from the ground and naturally appeared on his feet. Then he took seven steps east and west and north and south, pointed at the sky and earth and roared like a lion: "No one above or below or in the four directions can respect me." This became the style of a school. Later Zen disciples all took it as their mission to surpass the Buddha and their ancestors, and they were independent and did not succumb to any idol!
At this moment, Marandha took this posture in front of Mount Shaoshi, clearly confident that he was
I am the only one in the world! (To be continued)