Peach Blossom Dual Cultivation

These four gunmen, all sporting buzz cuts, white shirts, dress pants, and black leather shoes, looked fierce and full of murderous intent. Without a doubt, they were all skilled fighters.

“What are you doing? Filming a movie or staging a terrorist attack?”

Zhao Xiaorou immediately shouted. It was strange indeed to be held at gunpoint while going up the mountain to admire the moon late at night.

“A terrorist attack? I think you’re the ones staging a terrorist attack,” the leading man sneered. The four of them paid little attention to Zhao Xiaorou, but they kept a close eye on Zhou Lang, not daring to relax even a bit.

“We don’t have any grudges with you. Why resort to guns?”

Zhou Lang, initially startled, quickly composed himself. Now that he was a cultivator, was he really afraid of these four armed men?

“You want to attack Old Qin? We’ve known for a while. Just come with us to Feiyun Temple,” said the leader.

“Attack Old Qin?”

Zhou Lang and Zhao Xiaorou were both confused.

“Stop pretending. Move!”

The leader raised his gun.

“We don’t know any Old Qin, nor do we know you. We’re just regular tourists. If you insist on using force, I won’t be polite,” Zhou Lang, now being coerced at gunpoint for no reason, began to lose his temper.

“You dare resist? I’ll blow your head off with this gun,” the leader said coldly, his tone as icy as a god of death. Judging by his eyes, he must have killed before; otherwise, he wouldn’t have such a terrifying aura.

“Does having a gun allow you to decide life and death?”

Zhou Lang replied calmly.

“I think not.”

He was unafraid due to his strength. Additionally, if things got bad, he could rely on the spirit of his ancestral copper coin, Xiao Xi, whose power far surpassed his own and had reached the Foundation Establishment stage. Dealing with a few gunmen shouldn’t be an issue.

“Lay down your resistance, Master. As you approached, I already sensed the flow of your true energy, which is why these four experts are here waiting for you,” said a voice as the gates of Feiyun Temple suddenly opened, revealing three monks. The leading monk was an elderly man in his seventies with a white beard, while the other two were in their early forties. All three wore gray robes, and it was the elderly monk who had spoken.

“Quite observant, monk, but Feiyun Mountain doesn’t belong to Feiyun Temple, does it? Are outsiders not allowed? I’ve never met such rude and overbearing monks before,” Zhou Lang said after a brief pause, realizing that the monks and the four gunmen were working together. He had visited Feiyun Temple before and had seen these monks. Back then, they had seemed ordinary, but now it was clear that they were highly skilled.

“Exactly! Monk, Feiyun Temple isn’t some terrorist base, is it? With so many guns, you might attract the attention of the authorities,” Zhao Xiaorou added.

“Amitabha. Since you are a martial artist, why do you hide your true nature? Aren’t you here for Old Qin?”

The elderly monk clasped his hands together from a distance. Even from a hundred meters away, he could sense the true energy surging through Zhou Lang’s body, indicating his formidable martial prowess. Martial arts are categorized into four levels: Apprentice, Fighter, Master, and Grandmaster. Zhou Lang was likely at the Grandmaster level.

“I’ve said it repeatedly; I don’t know any Old Qin. Stop making excuses and step aside. My friend and I are heading to the peak of Feiyun Mountain,” Zhou Lang stated.

“Then forgive us, but any criminals attempting to attack Old Qin will be killed without mercy,” the leading gunman growled, preparing to shoot.

“Brother Lang, save me!”

Zhao Xiaorou shouted, fear overtaking her.

At that critical moment, under the moonlight, Zhou Lang’s figure blurred, and the four gunmen suddenly found him gone from their sight. In the instant of their shock, the afterimages of four fists simultaneously struck them.

Boom!

The four gunmen were simultaneously sent flying, crashing to the ground, while their guns fell into Zhou Lang’s hands.

With a forceful grip, Zhou Lang twisted the four pistols into a useless heap and tossed them to the ground.

The four men were so shaken that they felt numb all over and couldn’t even stand up.

“Brother Lang, you’re amazing!”

Zhao Xiaorou, who was just as fierce, hugged Zhou Lang and kissed him on the cheek after her initial surprise.

The three monks at the temple gate were all visibly shocked. The two middle-aged monks were about to take action, but the elder monk stopped them.

“Young man, I haven’t taken a life in many years, but since you are so stubborn, I have no choice but to subdue you,” the elderly monk’s voice boomed like a great bell.

His robe fluttered despite the still air, and suddenly, he leaped into the air. Although more than twenty meters separated him and Zhou Lang, he covered the distance in a single bound, landing before Zhou Lang like an arrow shot from a bow.

The monk’s large fist punched toward Zhou Lang with such force that the very air seemed to shatter. The power behind this punch was astounding!

Zhou Lang’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression turning serious. He could tell that the monk was a Grandmaster, though not a cultivator. Zhou Lang had only been practicing the Dual Cultivation Manual for a few days, so his combat experience was somewhat lacking, which made him a bit worried.

“Brother Lang, the monk’s level is not on par with yours. You can face him with confidence,” came Xiao Xi’s voice in Zhou Lang’s mind.

Feeling reassured, Zhou Lang struck with his palm.

The monk, who had approached swiftly, was sent flying back even faster, staggering to the temple gate. If not for the two middle-aged monks supporting him, he might not have been able to stand.

The elderly monk’s face turned pale as he looked at Zhou Lang in disbelief.

“You’re a cultivator?”

“Who would have thought my life was worth so much? Even a cultivator was sent to kill me!”

Before Zhou Lang could respond, the gates of Feiyun Temple opened once more, and a young man pushed out a wheelchair. In it sat a frail old man.

The old man was at least ninety years old. Though he sat in a wheelchair, his back was still straight.

“Old Qin, why did you come out? Please go back inside. Even if my disciples and I have to sacrifice our lives, we will protect you,” the elderly monk said, positioning himself in front of the frail old man.

“Life and death are predetermined, Master Fangzhi. This young man’s skills far exceed yours. There’s no need for unnecessary sacrifice,” the frail old man said calmly.

“It’s ironic that I, Qin Jingyu, survived countless battles, only to be killed by this assassin.”

“Isn’t Qin Jingyu a veteran general of the founding of the nation? How could he be here? Unfortunately, it’s too far away for me to see clearly,” Zhao Xiaorou murmured.

Zhou Lang, hearing Zhao Xiaorou’s words, was suddenly struck by a thought and looked at the frail old man.

“General Qin?”

Zhou Lang had seen some documentary footage and immediately recognized the frail old man as Qin Jingyu, the renowned founding general of the Country.