Who Let Him Cultivate Immortality

“Ha!”

“Not loud enough, again!”

“Ha!”

“Louder!”

“Ha!”

Lu Yang’s voice grew louder until it finally met Meng Jingzhou’s standards.

“My master taught me that shouting during combat is a way to release your limits. The louder the voice, the more power you can exert, even surpassing your usual strength.”

“When punching, keep your arm level with your line of sight.”

“Clench your fist tightly, imagine you’re holding a stone and use all your strength to grip it as if you want to crush it.”

These were teachings Meng Jingzhou had received from the Third Elder when he learned the fist technique, and now he passed them on to Lu Yang.

“The Arhat Fist emphasizes the coordination of upper and lower body movements, the hands moving with the steps, and the balance of hard and soft forces. Your movements are too stiff; they need to be fluid and soft!”

Meng Jingzhou pointed out Lu Yang’s mistakes one by one and corrected them, as these were common errors when practicing fist techniques.

Lu Yang was quite talented in martial arts. This was evident from how he learned the Shape-Imitating Fist in half a day and then improved it into the Lu Family’s Shape-Imitating Fist in another half day.

“The sea of suffering is boundless; a turn of the head is the shore!”

Lu Yang quickly got the hang of it, with a look of compassion in his eyes, making him appear like a benevolent person.

In his ear, Meng Jingzhou’s earnest teachings echoed: “Master told me that the Arhat Fist is a technique to encourage people to do good. The saying ‘the sea of suffering is boundless; a turn of the head is the shore’ means that if you can finish a set of moves and make someone put down their weapon and turn to goodness, then the Arhat Fist is truly perfected.”

“But unfortunately, people are often ignorant and can’t put down their weapons and turn to goodness. Hence, throughout history, only a few people have truly mastered the Arhat Fist.”

Meng Jingzhou placed one hand on his chest, truly embodying the demeanor of a high monk.

“When learning the Arhat Fist, the state of mind is also very important. It’s best to imagine yourself as a disciple of Buddha. When I learned the Arhat Fist, I even studied Buddhist scriptures for a while.”

“Recite Buddhist scriptures?” Lu Yang felt he had found a method.

Lu Yang didn’t need to learn Buddhist scriptures anew. During his free time in the library, he had read several days of Buddhist scriptures like the Diamond Sutra, the Golden Light Sutra, and the Heart Sutra, which were excellent for inducing sleep.

He slowly closed his eyes, envisioning the Everlasting Fairy’s delicate face in his mind.

The Everlasting Fairy, dressed in a beige nightgown, tilted her head to meet Lu Yang’s gaze.

“…Fairy, could you stand to the side of my spiritual space? I’m recalling Buddhist scriptures.”

“Oh.”

With the Everlasting Fairy out of his sight, Lu Yang began recalling the Buddhist scriptures. The content of the Diamond Sutra, the Golden Light Sutra, and the Heart Sutra surfaced in his mind as he pondered and understood the mindset of their authors, placing himself in their shoes.

In reality, Meng Jingzhou watched Lu Yang with surprise.

Lu Yang had his eyes closed, and his movements were slower, resembling an old tree, but his gestures exuded the aura of a compassionate high monk.

“Could it be that Lu Yang is suited to become a monk?” Meng Jingzhou secretly wondered.

As Lu Yang’s understanding of the Buddhist scriptures and the Arhat Fist deepened, his movements became smoother, like flowing water, without any hesitation, as if he had practiced hundreds or thousands of times and the actions were ingrained in his muscle memory.

Bang—bang—

With each punch Lu Yang threw, a sound of air breaking echoed, accompanied by faint Buddhist chants, as if an old monk was reciting sutras in the void, teaching people to be kind.

Lu Yang practiced with his eyes closed, continuing from morning until evening. Meng Jingzhou, seeing that he had nothing left to teach, squatted nearby, waiting to see when Lu Yang would finally open his eyes.

“Whoo—”

Finishing a set, Lu Yang exhaled deeply, gathered his breath, and opened his eyes, which were now bright and spirited.

“Did you master it?” Meng Jingzhou looked at Lu Yang in surprise. It had taken him a full three days to learn, yet this guy had managed it in just one day?

Is there any justice in this world?

“I’ve made some progress,” Lu Yang said modestly.

“Let’s give it a try.” Meng Jingzhou was eager to test Lu Yang’s progress. He couldn’t believe that after practicing for half a month, he could be surpassed by Lu Yang, who had only been at it for a day.

“Let’s try,” Lu Yang also felt eager to spar and test his level.

The two exchanged glances, assumed their stances, and simultaneously performed the Arhat Fist, engaging in a pure test of skill.

“Black Tiger Steals Heart!”

“Black Tiger Steals Heart!”

“Downward Hammer!”

“Downward Hammer!”

Their fists and feet collided with great force, like thunderclaps echoing in the training ground, causing the leaves on the old trees around to rustle loudly.

Their moves and strength were equally matched, making the fight thrilling and even, with no clear victor in sight.

“Unbelievable, you’ve only practiced for a day, and you’re already at the same entry level as me with the Arhat Fist. Maybe one day you’ll master it and persuade people to do good!”

“Just lucky,” Lu Yang said, but his proud expression showed that he didn’t believe it was luck at all.

Just as he was about to say something modest, he caught a glimpse of Meng Jingzhou’s head and his expression changed.

“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with my head?” Meng Jingzhou was puzzled.

“No, no problem at all,” Lu Yang said, avoiding eye contact like he had done something wrong.

Suspicious, Meng Jingzhou reached up to touch his head.

Wait, was something missing from his head?

“Where’s my hair?!”

Meng Jingzhou took out a small mirror from his identity jade and looked at his head for a long time.

His head was completely bald, so smooth that even a sparrow would slip off.

He was bald.

Like an Arhat.

In the spiritual space, the Everlasting Fairy was laughing uncontrollably.

“Lu Yang, you better explain what’s going on!” Meng Jingzhou’s first reaction was to blame Lu Yang.

His hair was part of his body refinement. How could it fall out for no reason?

He just noticed that his feet were surrounded by freshly fallen hair.

“I, I don’t know either. I just noticed your hair falling out quickly while we were sparring. By the time I tried to tell you, it was all gone,” Lu Yang stammered, genuinely clueless about what had happened.

Suddenly, a realization dawned on Lu Yang: “I understand now.”

“What do you understand?”

“Think about it, isn’t the purpose of the Arhat Fist to persuade people to do good? Where does evil come from? It comes from worries. Buddhism talks about the ‘three thousand strands of worry.’ Without those strands, there’s no evil, and one can do good.”

“Moreover, don’t you now look like an Arhat? It fits perfectly with the Arhat Fist!”

Hearing this, Meng Jingzhou lunged at Lu Yang like a hungry tiger: “I think you look more like an Arhat!”

Feeling guilty, Lu Yang ran off: “I’ve mastered the Arhat Fist, you can’t hit me!”

“This isn’t the Arhat Fist; it’s the Balding Technique! Stand still!”