Why do I have so many masters?

After parting with Jiang Shouyi, Wang Anfeng couldn't tell if it was an illusion, but he felt as if seventy percent of his exhaustion had dissipated, and even the bruises on his fists didn't hurt as much.

Upon returning home and barely pushing open the front door, he saw a huge bluestone in the courtyard with a familiar figure sitting on it, robust and tall, dressed in tattered clothes, his left hand holding a wine jar, and his white hair wild like a lion's mane. Wang Anfeng paused slightly and said,

"Li Bo?"

Li Qidao lifted his gaze; when his eyes locked onto the chains on the young man's body, the rage he had suppressed began to rise from within his chest. After a moment, he finally spoke,

"Did your master put these chains on you?"

His voice was deep, subtly filled with thunderous fury.

At that moment, Wang Anfeng, whose mind and physical strength were greatly depleted, didn't notice Li Bo's rage and merely smiled,

"Yes, they're quite heavy."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and swung a fist, causing the chains to clink. The bruises on his knuckles caught Li Qidao's attention; the elder's eyes grew deeper and darker, like black clouds over the city, layer upon layer, the storm yet to break but already oppressive.

He also knew that this must be for Wang Anfeng's own good.

But seeing the child he had watched grow up now so weary and holding hidden injuries, he, having undergone cultivation himself, knew all too well how painful it was. As people age, their affection for the younger generation grows; he approved of rigorous cultivation, but the current extent was beyond what could simply be described as rigorous.

This was outright self-harm.

He himself was sixteen when he first adopted such rigorous training methods, yet the child before him was only thirteen.

At that moment, the pain and anger in his heart almost overpowered his rational mind. Looking at Wang Anfeng, he managed a smile and said:

"Where is your master... Li Bo wants to have a word with him."

In the way of a martial artist, to properly communicate.

Wang Anfeng was taken aback. He had asked Yuan Ci before, who had told him that only he could enter the Shaolin Temple with the Buddha Beads on his wrist. After hesitating, he said,

"Li Bo, I can't... I can only go alone."

"With one more person, we can't go to Shaolin Temple."

The young man's words seemed disjointed, but Li Qidao understood, the veins on his hands bulging before he suddenly burst into laughter and said,

"So he's a master who can hold the universe in his sleeve and command heaven and earth within his palm... Hahaha, good! Li Bo is very pleased!"

"Give this jar of wine to him for me!"

As he spoke, he flicked his wrist and threw the wine jar towards Wang Anfeng, who instinctively caught it. His body felt a bit itchy and even more exhausted, but the vague pain had dissipated, while Li Qidao had already turned and strode away, his back carrying a trace of frustration.

Not understanding the reason, the young man just looked at the wine jar in his hands and sighed,

"Master... he doesn't drink wine... Giving it to Master is too presumptuous."

"I'll give it to Mr. Ying instead."

Worried about the immense sum of the penalty, Wang Anfeng had lunch and then entered Shaolin Temple again. It was still the peak where his master and Mr. Ying were present. The former, seeing Wang Anfeng in good shape, felt a slight relief, while the middle-aged scholar focused on the chessboard, casually placed a piece, and said indifferently,

"You're here? If you're here, then go cultivate..."

Wang Anfeng, upon hearing this, did not descend the mountain but instead gently set Li Bo's wine jar next to Mr. Ying. The latter was slightly surprised; although they were aware of the outside world, they didn't pay attention to trivial matters and thus were unaware of Li Qidao's situation. Frowning, he asked,

"For me?"

Wang Anfeng nodded and said, "It's from Li Bo for you, sir."

After setting down Jiang Libo's belongings, Wang Anfeng turned around, picked up the iron bucket beside him, and proceeded down the mountain as the sound of chains receded into the distance. Yuan Ci asked with a smile,

"Why not open it and take a look?"

Mr. Ying scoffed and replied,

"This wine must have been meant for you. Knowing that you don't drink, he didn't want to impose on you and gave it to me instead."

"When have I ever accepted something that others have discarded?"

With a wave of his sleeve robe, it swept out like a cloud, striking the rough ceramic wine jar. Yet, the jar did not shatter. Instead, a bolt of purple lightning flashed over the jar, completely shredding Mr. Ying's right sleeve!

Boom!

The purple lightning soared, shattering the sealed mud of the wine jar in the blink of an eye, and thunderous plasma flowed over the clear wine, inducing fear in anyone who saw it. All of a sudden, a dragon's roar erupted, and the wine transformed into a dragon that soared through the skies on the wind, with clouds howling and thunderous gales around it.

Even within this realm, it stimulated a weather change that affected an area ten miles around, and thick black clouds rolled in swiftly.

The dragon's head emerged from the mist, baring its teeth and letting out a proud roar toward the peak of the solitary mountain; purple lightning shot out, but the surroundings of Wang Anfeng remained serene.

Mr. Ying's eyes widened slightly and he slowly bowed his head to look at his shattered sleeve, his voice cold as he said,

"…Such a temper, containing thunder in the wine without harming the jar at all, what great ability!"

He then looked up at Yuan Ci and said with a sneer,

"It seems someone is questioning whether you are qualified to be the boy's master..."

Yuan Ci shook his head and chuckled,

"There's not a hint of murderous intent in this thunder; it's more like an old man grumbling… It must be the chains on Feng'er that displeased Mr. Li, or perhaps... given the weight you provided, it would be strange if there were no reaction."

Hearing this, Mr. Ying sneered,

"So, are you planning just to let this go?"

Yuan Ci shook his head and slowly stood up, saying,

"That won't do…

"His actions also carry a teaching purpose. As rituals require reciprocation, as Feng'er's master, it's only right for me not to neglect the proprieties."

With one hand raised in front of his chest, the gray-robed monk lowered his gaze as a serene voice emerged; behind him, the image of a Buddhist deity appeared, with fierce eyes and stepping on the flames of karma. He swung his hand out flat and, amidst the grand chanting of Buddhist hymns, he dispersed the dense clouds and thunder.

.........…

Today, when Wang Anfeng departed, he was given a string of Buddha Beads and a scroll painting, with instructions to deliver them to Li Qidao, and the usually stern Mr. Ying unusually engaged him in more conversation and asked him to bring some books next time.

If that wasn't enough, he could go to County City, among other cities, where there should be guardians of books.

Watching as Wang Anfeng's figure disappeared from view, Yuan Ci turned to look at Mr. Ying and said with a smile,

"I never thought you would take the initiative to learn about Feng'er's world."

The middle-aged scholar did not respond but instead gazed at his right hand, now restored, his palm white and slender, yet still uncontrollably trembling slightly. Faint traces of purple thunder flickered beneath his skin. He slowly clenched his fingers, and a glow of realization shone in his eyes as he said slowly,

"Because this world, and our world, seem to have many differences… Stuck here, we can only understand this world through Wang Anfeng."

"I had planned to have him cultivate in seclusion, but it seems that in addition to his cultivation, he should also wander around here in the coming years. Considering this is Jianghu, it's likely not without bandits and thieves. Even if peace reigns, there are always some martial arts schools and factions…"

Muttering softly, the scholar's lips curled slightly, appearing even more stern.