Chapter - 229 Disaster Strikes When the Screen Wall Breaches the Impregnable Fortress (9)

"Aiyo!" suddenly Yang Xiao, Leng Qian, Shuo Bude shouted together, "Quickly withdraw your hand!"

Zhang Wuji felt the forefinger of his right hand shook; a gust of cold 'chi' burst through his hand and spread throughout his body just like a lightning strike, immediately his body turned cold. He heard Zhou Dian, Priest Tieguan, and the others shouted curses at the same time, "Stinky bald thief, dare to use such treachery!"

Zhang Wuji's entire body shivered violently. He understood that although that Yuan Zhen could not move away, he was still able to send all his strength to his finger, which he positioned in front of his 'yu tang' acupoint. Because Zhang Wuji was inside the sack, he did not see that Yuan Zhen unexpectedly could still execute this countermeasure. As Zhang Wuji's finger arrived, two fingertips bumped into each other, the power of Yuan Zhen's 'huan yin zhi' penetrated the cloth sack and went straight into his body.

In this situation of life and death, Yuan Zhen had used up his remaining strength on his finger. After the two fingers collided, his entire body was paralyzed and his countenance turned greenish pale that he looked like a corpse.

In the hall, there were originally eight men who were unable to move after receiving injuries. Now Zhang Wuji was added to their number. Zhou Dian was the one most irritated; although he was gasping for breath, he insisted on shouting curses at the Shaolin bald thief's shameless treachery. Yang Xiao and the others, however, thought that they could not blame Yuan Zhen. The enemy was threatening to seal his acupoint, he held out his hand in self-defense. He had done nothing improper.

Yuan Zhen's strength was completely depleted that he felt he was about to die. But secretly he was delighted, thinking this boy was still young, his power could not be too strong. After being hit by the 'huan yin zhi', he would certainly be dead in less than half a day, while in about two hours he would be able to slowly gather his dispersed real 'chi', and then he would be able to do anything he wanted.

The hall grew very quiet. After more than an hour later, the four candles illuminating the hall died out one after another. The hall became pitch black.

Yang Xiao and the others heard Yuan Zhen's intermittent breathing slowly evened up; it was heavy at first, but progressively getting longer. They knew the scattered real 'chi' in Yuan Zhen's body was slowly condensing, while whenever they tried to exert their own energy, a cold 'chi', like the ice-cold 'huan yin zhi', would burst into their 'dantian'. They could not help but shiver. Their despair grew, the anxiety was getting even more unbearable. They wished for Yuan Zhen to recover quicker and quickly send out a palm strike to each of them so that they would die immediately, sparing them the seemingly endless torture of waiting anxiously.

Leng Qian, Zhou Dian and the others were content to just close their eyes waiting for death, simple and straightforward. Shuo Bude and Peng Yingyu, however, could not set their minds at ease. Of the Five Wanderers, Shuo Bude and Peng Yingyu were Buddhist monks [orig. 'chu jia ren' – those who leave their homes], but these two were also ones with the most ambition, the ones most care about the common people's suffering, the ones resolved to take the great undertaking. By this time the situation was already decided, they were certain they would lose their lives under the hands of Yuan Zhen. Everybody's lifelong magnificent aspiration would soon go down the drain.

"Peng Heshang," Shuo Bude mournfully said, "We have carefully laid a plan to drive the Mongolian Tatars away, who would have thought that in the end everything is wasted? Ay, to think that the calamity of millions of common people has reached its peak, yet they will still have to endure suffering for a longer time."

Zhang Wuji was generating hot 'chi' in his 'dantian' to fight the cold 'chi' of the 'huan yin zhi'. He clearly heard everything Shuo Bude said, and was unable to restrain from feeling strange. "He said they are planning on driving the Mongolian Tatars away?" he thought, "Could it be that the notoriously evil Devil Cult really have the good of common people in their minds?"

He heard Peng Yingyu reply, "Shuo Bude, I have already said that if we rely solely on our Ming Cult's strength, it is impossible for us to overtake the Mongolian Tatars. We have to contact the world's heroes and warriors to join hands, only then we will succeed. In the past, your Shixiong [martial brother] Bang Hu and my Shidi [(younger) martial brother] Zhou Ziwang have raised arms in rebellion. The momentum was strong, but in the end they still utterly failed. Wasn't it because they did not involve the assistance of outsiders'?"

Zhou Dian loudly said, "Death is knocking on your door, yet you two, this pair of bald thieves, are still fighting a vague battle. One says he wants to rely mainly of the Ming Cult, the other says he wants to join hands with the major sects. To me, Zhou Dian, everything is nonsense! Merely a fart! Our Ming Cult is all split up in pieces, with our guts spilled all over the place; yet you still want to fart? Peng Heshang wants to get in touch with the orthodox major sects, it is an even louder fart, an extremely stinky fart. We are currently besieged by the Six Major Sects, and you want to communicate your fart with them?"

Priest Tieguan interrupted, "If Yang Jiaozhu was still alive, we would have beaten the Six Major Sects out of their wits, then we would not have to worry that they would not obey our command."

Zhou Dian laughed aloud and said, "The ox nose mixed-up hair [both are derogatory terms to call a Taoist priest] is releasing an even smellier ox fart! If Yang Jiaozhu were still alive, naturally everything would be alright; who wouldn't know it? You just talk too much … aiyo … aiyo!" As he opened his mouth to laugh, his 'chi' dispersed and the cold 'chi' of 'huan yin zhi' burst into his heart and lungs that he could not restrain from screaming in pain.

"Shut up!" Leng Qian said. As soon as he said those two words, everybody calmed down immediately.

Zhang Wuji's heart was still filled with disquieting thoughts: "Apparently there are many twists and turns surrounding this Ming Cult; they are obviously more than just a bunch of evildoers." Thereupon he said, "Shuo Bude Dashi, what exactly is your precious Cult's objective? Could you possibly reveal it to me?"

"Ha, you are not dead yet?" Shuo Bude said, "Xiao Xiongdi, with no reason whatsoever you deliver your life because of the Ming Cult, we feel very sorry. In any case you won't live past a few more hours, so I don't see any reason why I cannot tell you the secret of our Cult. Leng Mian Xianzheng, what do you say?"

"Tell!" Leng Qian said. Instead of saying, 'it's alright, you can tell him', six words, it was enough for him to say just one word, 'tell'.

"Xiao Xiongdi," Shuo Bude said, "Our Ming Cult originated from Persia. It entered the Central Earth during the Tang dynasty. At that time it was called 'Xian Jiao' [Zoroastrianism]. By imperial decree, Tang emperors allowed Guangming [brightness] Temples to be built everywhere as our Ming Cult's monasteries. Our Cult's creed is to do good and shun evil, that all living creatures are equal. Those who have silver and gold ought to share it with the poor. No meat no wine. We worship the Ming Zun [Brightness prophet]. The Ming Zun is actually the God of Fire, the virtuous deity. It was because corrupt government officials bullied our Cult, our Cult brethrens were angered and often staged rebellions. From the Northern Song's Fang La, Fang Jiaozhu, I don't know how many times we have raised our arms."