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Eagle Shooting Hero 3(37)



Guo Jing’s palm came one after another, carrying strong gusts of wind, coming fast toward the two men’s torso. The scholar knew the fierceness of the ’18-Dragon Subduing Palms’, “Back off quickly!” he anxiously shouted.

Both the fisherman and the woodcutter were disciples of a well-known expert; their martial arts were anything but ordinary. Before Guo Jing’s stance arrived they had hastily withdrew their weapons and leaped back. Suddenly they felt a jerk dampening their backward movement; turned out their weapons were pulled forward by Guo Jing’s palm strength. They had no choice but let their weapons go; saving their own lives was more important.

Guo Jing caught the iron oar and the steel axe, he lightly tossed them back and called out, “Catch these!”

“Good martial art!” the scholar praised; his long sword threatening Guo Jing’s right side.

Seeing this attack Guo Jing was startled; among Yideng’s four disciples this scholar looked the most refined, but actually his martial art surpassed those of his colleagues; hence Guo Jing did not dare to underestimate him. His palms fluttered in the air, enveloping Huang Rong and his own body with tremendous force. This defense was truly stable, like an abyss stopping a mountain peak; there was not a single hole in it. His palms were like rainbow, continuously circling around bigger and bigger that the fisherman, the woodcutter, the farmer and the scholar were gradually pushed back till their backs were against the wall. Never mind counterattacking, merely defending themselves was not easy.

By this time if Guo Jing added more force to his palms these four people would inevitably suffer injury. Fighting a moment longer Guo Jing held back his strength, he attacked hard then backed off hard, struck light then fended off light, it seemed like his force was there and then disappeared;

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throughout the battle he steadily held the power balance so they were on the level ground, nobody won and nobody lost.

The scholar’s sword technique suddenly changed; his long sword vibrated, creating a continuously buzzing noise. His sword turned into six swords on the top, six swords on the bottom, six swords on the front, six swords on the back, six swords on the left and six swords on the right, successively stabbing like six by six, thirty six swords altogether. It was the Yunnan’s ‘ai lao shan’ [Mount Ailao] thirty-six sword; considered one of the best offensive sword techniques in the world.

Guo Jing’s left palm parried the fisherman, the woodcutter and the farmer three people’s weapons; his right palm followed the movements of the scholar’s sword: up and down, front to back, left to right. Although the sword underwent countless changes, Guo Jing had always succeeded in diverting the sword stab by the power of his palm. Each sword stab passed very close to his clothes, but never once did it manage to even make a scratch on Guo Jing’s skin.

Blocking to the thirty-sixth stab, Guo Jing bent his right middle finger under his thumb; he waited for the incoming sword to lose its momentum before he suddenly flicked the body of the sword. It was the ‘tan zhi shen tong’ [Divine Flicking Finger], Huang Yaoshi’s special skill which was considered unparalleled in the present age. Huang Yaoshi used this special skill when he played shooting marbles with Zhou Botong; and again in the Cloud Village, when he was giving direction to Mei Chaofeng. Guo Jing watched him fighting the Quanzhen’s Seven Masters at the Ox Village near Lin’an using this special skill. Having learned a certain amount of the martial art secrets from the Manual he managed to imitate the flicking finger technique. Although it was inferior to Huang Yaoshi’s subtle and elegant flicking finger, but it still carried a tremendous force.

With a metallic clank the long sword was shaken; the scholar’s arm was numb, the sword almost fell from his hand. The scholar was shocked; he leaped backward and called out, “Hold it!”

The fisherman, the woodcutter and the farmer three people leaped backward at once. Only their backs were very close to the wall to begin with, so there was no place they could withdraw to. The fisherman leaped out of the door, the farmer jumped out over the hole in the wall Guo Jing made earlier. The woodcutter inserted his axe back into his waist. He smiled and said, “I told you these two did not have any evil intentions, but you did not believe me.”

The scholar put his sword back into its sheath; he cupped his fists toward Guo Jing and said, “Xiao Ge [little elder brother] has held back your palms, we are feeling grateful.”

Guo Jing busily bowed down to return the gesture, but his heart was full of questions, “From the start we did not have any ill-intention; why didn’t they believe us? Why is it after we fought they changed their minds and believed us?”

Huang Rong noticed his confused expression, she knew what he was thinking; she whispered to his ear, “If you harbor ill intentions, then you would have injured these four people. How can even Reverend Yideng be your match right now?” Guo Jing thought it was true, he nodded his head repeatedly.

The farmer and the fisherman walked back into the room. Huang Rong asked, “I wonder who the Reverend’s enemy is? What is this jade bracelet that was delivered earlier?”

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The scholar replied, “It’s not that we don’t want to tell you, but frankly speaking we don’t even know the truth surrounding this matter. All I know is that the reason my Shifu became a monk is closely related to this matter.”

Huang Rong was about to inquire further when suddenly the farmer jumped up and shouted, “Aiyo!

It’s dangerous!”

“What is it?” the fisherman asked.

The farmer pointed his finger to the scholar and said, “Shifu has lost all his strength, he is telling everything, concealing nothing; if these two harbor any ill intention while the four of us are powerless to hold them up, will Shifu be still alive?”

The woodcutter said, “The Honorable Zhuangyuan can predict with divine accuracy. If he could not predict the outcome of this small matter, how could he become the Dali’s Prime Minister? He had known from the start that these two are friends and not foes; but he deliberately proceeded with fighting them. First, to test these two friends’ martial art; second, to convince the two of you.”

The scholar showed a faint smile. The farmer and the fisherman looked at each other; they were partly admiring the scholar, partly blaming their own rashness.

At that moment they heard footsteps coming in from outside the door. A young monk came in. He clasped his hands and said, “Shifu orders four martial brothers to send the guests off.” Everybody stood up immediately.

Guo Jing said, “The Reverend is expecting an enemy; how can we walk away just like that?

Forgetting my own inability Xiao Di [little/lowly younger brother] wants to collaborate with the four martial brothers to face the visitor.”

The fisherman, the woodcutter, the farmer and the scholar looked at each other with delighted expressions. “Let me ask Shifu,” the scholar said.

Four people went in together. They stayed inside for quite a long time. When they came back out Guo Jing and Huang Rong saw their crestfallen expression and knew that Reverend Yideng did not allow them to help. And sure enough; the scholar said, “Shifu thanks the two of you very much; but he said that everybody reaps what he sows, other people must not interfere.”

“Jing Gege,” Huang Rong said, “Let us talk to the Reverend.” They went to the building where Reverend Yideng’s meditation house is. Guo Jing knocked the door for half a day but nobody answered. He could have shoved the door open, but how could he dare to play rough?

The woodcutter low-spiritedly said, “Shifu cannot receive the two of you. The mountain is high and the river is long, we will meet again some other time.”

Guo Jing felt deeply grateful toward Reverend Yideng, his warm blood bubbling up his chest; he was unable to restrain himself, with a loud voice he said, “Rong’er, whether the Reverend allows us or not, let us go down the mountain. If we see anybody messing around, we’ll beat the hell out of him first, then we’ll talk.”

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“That is a wonderful idea,” Huang Rong replied. “If the Reverend’s enemy is so fierce that we die in his hands, consider that we are repaying the Reverend’s kindness.”

Guo Jing spoke with power, Huang Rong also intentionally raised her voice, of course Reverend Yideng heard them. They were just about to turn around when the wooden door suddenly opened.

An old monk with a sharp voice said, “The Reverend invites you to come in.”

Guo Jing was pleasantly surprised; alongside Huang Rong he walked into the room. Reverend Yideng and that Indian monk were still sitting cross-legged on the meditation mats just as before.

Two people bowed down to the ground. They raised their heads and saw that Yideng’s complexion was yellow and sickly; totally different from the first time they saw him. Two people’s hearts were overwhelmed with gratitude and regret at the same time; they did not know what to say.

Yideng turned toward his four disciples on the door, “Everybody come in, I want to say something.”

The fisherman, the woodcutter, the farmer and the scholar went inside the meditation room and paid their respects to their master and martial uncle. The Indian monk nodded his head to acknowledge, then he went back into his meditation, did not pay more attention to anybody. Reverend Yideng gazed at the rising incense smoke, he seemed to be lost in thought; his hand played with a sheep-white colored jade bracelet.