Entering the Spirit Realm 117. Old Friends in a Foreign Land

Seeing the precarious situation, the old beggar first channeled his lifelong internal energy and struck a palm out into the empty air, then shouted, "Drop to the ground and roll backward immediately!"

Gao Yunxiang also hurriedly called out, "Third Brother, we are all on the same side. Do not take this seriously; stop at once!"

Li Haoping replied as he struck, "I only want to borrow her sword to assassinate my enemy."

Jie Yuhua had not been sprayed by the venom because the old beggar had timely unleashed a powerful palm strike, blowing the poison away. She was also quick-witted enough to roll aside, escaping injury, but as she stood up, her beautiful eyes were still blazing with fury.

Gao Yunxiang smiled at her and explained, "Sister, my third brother has difficulty expressing himself. He seized your sword because he wanted to borrow your precious blade to kill the 'Wine and Meat Monk.' He bears you no malice; please calm your anger."

After hearing Gao Yunxiang's explanation, Jie Yuhua turned the sword around and handed it to Li Haoping.

Gao Yunxiang shook his head and said, "Third Brother, your enemy cannot be killed just yet. We must take him to the Heavenly Blade Pavilion and force him to confess the process of how he harmed you in front of the leaders of the various sects. Only then will they sympathize with you and satisfy your demands."

Upon hearing his second brother's words, Li Haoping cupped his hands and bowed deeply to Jie Yuhua, apologizing for his discourtesy.

Once the misunderstanding had been resolved, Gao Yunxiang removed the human-skin garment from Luo Mingyuan.

Although Luo Mingyuan was quite old, his skin remained fair and smooth due to his excellent diet and diligent self-care.

The toxic sand and needles in Luo Mingyuan's eyes had been forced out by his own internal energy while he was hanging upside down, but one of his eyeballs had been destroyed and could not be restored.

Most agonizing was the throwing knife embedded in the back of his eye; he had not had the opportunity to force it out with his energy. Breaking into a cold sweat, he gritted his teeth and said, "If you want to kill me, do it quickly. If you won't, then immediately extract this throwing knife from my eye."

The old beggar snorted coldly and said, "We weren't the ones who stuck that knife in your eye; what the hell does it have to do with us?"

Luo Mingyuan asked, "Who are you?"

The old beggar replied coldly, "A poor beggar."

Luo Mingyuan pleaded, "Old beggar, won't you do a good deed?"

The old beggar retorted, "Who doesn't know I'm the 'Old Beggar'? Do I need you to tell me? I say the words 'do a good deed' dozens of times a month to others; it's not something others usually say to me."

Between his rage and the throbbing pain, Luo Mingyuan fainted again.

Gao Yunxiang asked, "Uncle Fan, do you have any medicine for blade wounds on you?"

The old beggar asked, "Who is injured?"

Gao Yunxiang smiled and said, "Your nephew wishes to remove the throwing knife from the back of this demon's eye. If we don't apply medicine to stop the bleeding afterward, I fear he will bleed to death."

The old beggar said, "This devil has killed countless innocents and ruined many virtuous women in his life. Pay him no mind; letting him suffer a bit more is no injustice at all."

As soon as his voice fell, a person shouted loudly, "Poor friend, have you seen any excitement?"

The old beggar replied in a booming voice, "The old beggar has had his eyes opened wide tonight. Poor Scholar, you missed the opportunity; what a pity!"

The Poor Scholar's voice drew nearer. He possessed a childlike temperament, loved to join in on the excitement, and enjoyed telling stories. He hurried over, asking, "What kind of eye-opening event? Tell me quickly."

The old beggar said, "A bad disciple beat an evil master. The master was formidable, but the disciples were useless. The evil master was hung upside down in a tree, yet several bad disciples still couldn't defeat him, one after another falling into the gates of hell."

The Poor Scholar asked, "Who is the master? With such good martial arts, how could he raise such incompetent disciples?"

The old beggar said, "Who is the master? I cannot tell you yet; I fear that if a coward like you heard his name, you would be scared out of your wits."

The Poor Scholar laughed heartily, "The lives of the poor are mostly cheaper than those of the rich. You and I both carry the label of 'poor,' what is there to fear?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he drifted down before the old beggar. His gaze fell upon Luo Mingyuan, who lay on the ground dripping with cold sweat, and he asked, "Who is this person?"

The old beggar raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You don't recognize him?"

The Poor Scholar scanned him carefully for a while, then shook his head, saying, "This fellow is likely someone of wealth and status. He and I, a poor scholar, have never crossed paths."

The old beggar said, "You really are a frog in a well if you don't recognize the 'Wine and Meat Monk' Luo Mingyuan, who has caused such a stir in the martial arts world."

The Poor Scholar pointed at the old beggar's nose and said, "Old beggar, I am no child. Don't try to scare me with the great name of the Wine and Meat Monk. If I, the Poor Scholar, am good at anything, it is recognizing faces. Even if I only saw him once, I would recognize him even if he were reduced to ashes."

The old beggar said, "Listening to you, it seems you have met the Wine and Meat Monk."

The Poor Scholar nodded and said, "He once bought a pair of straw sandals from me. He dropped an ingot of silver and left. I wanted to give him his change, but he ignored me and I couldn't catch up. I was so happy with that windfall that I treated your brothers, the Hunchback and the Cripple, to a few pots of wine."

The old beggar said, "Look at him again, carefully."

The Poor Scholar looked from head to toe once more and said, "The Wine and Meat Monk is broader than this man, and a fraction taller, too. His skin is not as fair as this man's. Old beggar, don't let yourself be fooled and make a fool of yourself. You can't afford to lose your old face!"

The old beggar took the human-skin garment from Gao Yunxiang and shook it, saying, "Your eyes are not yet failing; this is the Wine and Meat Monk's treasure. Once he puts this skin on, he looks just like the shape you described."

The Poor Scholar reached out to hold the skin garment and gasped, "This is a treasure! The process to make this is not simple. It must be peeled from a living person, soaked in a mixture of dozens of herbs, dried and soaked repeatedly, and after several winters and summers, it must be buried atop a snow-capped mountain that never thaws!"

The old beggar laughed, "Poor ghost, stop boasting. If you knew how to tan human skin, you would be a wealthy man today, not a pauper..."

The Poor Scholar's eyes widened, "Old beggar, you only know one thing and not the other. A gentleman loves others through virtue; how could one harm a life for the sake of money? I, the Poor Scholar, have no other strengths, but I can uphold the duties of a gentleman and do not commit unreasonable grievances."

The old beggar glanced at Mo Dao, then turned to the disheveled scholar and said, "Fine, fine. I, the old beggar, only know a basketful of characters; I cannot out-argue you. Why are the two disciples from the Heavenly Blade Pavilion not here?"

The Poor Scholar smiled slightly, "Old beggar, you were a young man once, too. Haven't you ever encountered a beautiful girl? You must have encountered a blind maiden; recall your own experiences with the opposite sex in your youth."

The old beggar shook his head, "I cannot remember the longings of my youth at all."

The Poor Scholar said, "When young men and women are together, they have so much to say! They could talk for three days and three nights without fatigue and still feel it was unfinished. If it were transcribed, it would be a massive volume, 'The Grand Collection of Love Talk.' I heard those two little ones laughing and chatting, so I headed off and arrived here first with Young Hero Mo."

Suddenly, the sound of weapons clashing came from the forest. Gao Yunxiang was startled and asked, "Who is fighting in the forest?"

"They are likely fighting over jealousy. I fear the smell of sour vinegar; Young Hero, quickly go and be the peacemaker," the disheveled scholar laughed.

The old beggar looked at the Poor Scholar, puzzled, and asked, "Do you not recognize Young Nephew Gao Yunxiang?"

The Poor Scholar looked Gao Yunxiang up and down and asked, "Where are you from?"

Gao Yunxiang cupped his hands and bowed to the Poor Scholar. "Ah!" the Poor Scholar exclaimed in shock, "You are that brat, Gao Baichuan's son! Take this punch!" Saying this, he threw a punch directly at Gao Yunxiang's chest.

Seeing that he had been speaking fine one moment and suddenly attacked the next, Gao Yunxiang assumed he was testing his martial arts and could only dodge.

Seeing him dodge with light and agile footwork, the Poor Scholar grew more ferocious with each move, and every punch was aimed at Gao Yunxiang's vital points.

Gao Yunxiang dodged several moves, but seeing the strikes were fierce and lethal—not like a test at all—he stopped avoiding and began to counterattack.

Fists and palms flew, and the fight became intense.

The old beggar was baffled. Seeing the old man and the youth fighting for their lives, he shouted, "Stop!" He stepped forward, standing between them, and pushed both of them back with his palms.

He turned his head to look at the Poor Scholar and asked, "What feud do you have with Young Nephew Gao?"

The Poor Scholar said, "A father's debts are paid by the son. I received his father's punches and slaps, so naturally, I seek repayment from his son."

The old beggar asked, "When did this happen?"

The Poor Scholar replied, "When we were children. His father and I studied together at the West Mountain Academy and slept in the same bed. His father knew martial arts from a young age and would beat me at the drop of a hat. I didn't know martial arts, so not only could I not beat him, I couldn't even dodge! Either my nose was bloodied or my mouth was knocked crooked."

The old beggar laughed, "So that's how it is. I feel that the punches old Gao gave you back then were still too light!"

The Poor Scholar blinked and asked, "Old beggar, how did you know?"

The old beggar said, "If old Gao had beaten you heavily back then, your martial arts today wouldn't just be 'three-legged cat' tricks where you only know how to puff air through your nose. Puffing air won't scare an opponent, so you'd have no choice but to run."

The Poor Scholar smiled, "You are right. If old Gao had beaten me harder, I would have certainly harbored hatred and would have had to master my martial arts to take revenge. Because it wasn't heavy, I just let it slide and didn't consider it a true grudge."

Gao Yunxiang could not help but chuckle.

The Poor Scholar scolded, "Brat, are you laughing that my martial arts are inferior to your father's? When I see him, I will have a fierce fight with him to see who falls to the ground begging for mercy first."

Gao Yunxiang bowed repeatedly, "Please forgive this junior's presumptuousness. I just felt that your heart was open and honest, and I couldn't help but laugh."

The Poor Scholar said, "Your father mastered martial arts back then, but his studies were as clumsy as an ox. Memorizing books and matching couplets, there wasn't a day he didn't get disciplined by the teacher. Either he had a bump on his forehead or a bruise on the back of his head. His nickname 'Unicorn Ox' came from those lessons. Do you feel proud of your father?"

The old beggar laughed, "You can insult his father to his face, but why insult the son too?"

The Poor Scholar said, "There are so many jokes about his father! They were enough to make his classmates' guts ache and their backs hunch from laughter. One evening after dinner, I went for a walk with him. We passed a stone monument inscribed with 'Tai Shan Shi Gan Dang.' He read it as 'Tai Chuan You Qu Tang.' When the teacher taught him to recite the Analects, he turned 'Zeng Zi Yue' into 'Yong Cheng,' 'Cao Zi Yue' into 'Qing Da Fu Song Cheng Xiang Da Fu,' and read 'Ji Kang Zi' as 'Li Mazi.' In short, there were jokes about him every day."

Gao Yunxiang laughed, "My father has told me as much. In his early years, his heart was set on martial arts, and his studies were just for show. He would mix up north and south, never a day without a beating from the teacher and laughter from his classmates."

The Poor Scholar laughed, "You are smarter than your father. Since you put it that way, I won't share the even funnier stories. Seeing you, his nephew, acting much like your father did back then, it brings back memories of my school days—there is resentment, but there is also amusement. Please don't take offense to what happened just now."

Gao Yunxiang smiled, "This junior would not dare, and I look forward to your guidance in the future, Uncle."

The Poor Scholar said, "Go and take a look now."

Gao Yunxiang followed the sounds of the clashing weapons, unfolded his form, and rushed over to see his Second Brother and Fourth Sister fighting in two separate pairs.

The Eldest Sister and Miss Yang were sitting under a tree, talking. He hurriedly raised his voice and called out, "Third Brother, Fourth Sister, stop at once!"

Li Haoping and Miss Jie shared a deep bond from their childhood sweethearts days. Although they had been separated for over a decade, their mutual affection had not faded with time.

However, there was also mutual suspicion—suspicion is the product of romantic entanglement. During their long separation, they had each faced different trials.

Once they met, they could not face each other, embrace, and speak at length. Joy had turned into suspicion, and suspicion had transformed into resentment. Yet, the threads of affection remained firmly tied to their hearts; these threads are intangible, impossible to cut or untie.