The old man surnamed Gu sneered.

"If I wasn’t talking to you, was I talking to a ghost?

"Which family’s junior are you? What school, what sect? Who is your master?

"I’d really like to know who taught such an ill-mannered disciple.

"If he can’t teach you properly, I don’t mind teaching you a lesson on his behalf about respecting your elders!"

The moment he spoke, Fang Shuwen’s expression darkened.

Mo Beidou’s face turned livid.

Not only was the old man pulling rank, but he had also insulted their master.

In the past, Mo Beidou would have had no choice but to endure this.

But today, Fang Shuwen had no intention of enduring it. With a faint smile, he suddenly strode forward, and a Vajra Tower Throwing strike descended in an instant.

The old man surnamed Gu was stunned. Who would have thought this kid would attack without a single word?

He immediately sneered.

"You’re courting death!"

He was about to raise his palm to counter, but little did he know that Fang Shuwen’s Great Black Heaven God Palm, amplified by his threefold insight and Talent, was already approaching the Realm of Great Perfection.

Now, his every move held immense power.

This Vajra Tower Throwing was so powerful that before the Palm Power even reached him, the pressure had already turned the space around the old man into a quagmire.

His Inner Strength was considerable, yet at this moment, he could barely even lift his arm.

Utterly horrified, he summoned every ounce of his strength and barely managed to raise his hand. Yet he couldn’t form an effective attack; instead, he looked like a common man instinctively shielding his face from a heavy blow.

He had lost all face.

Then again, if the old man had been more vigilant when facing Fang Shuwen, if he hadn’t been so dismissive from the very beginning, he wouldn’t have ended up in such a sorry state.

Even if he couldn’t win, he wouldn’t have been so utterly humiliated.

But he had been the one to provoke first, and he had completely underestimated Fang Shuwen.

He certainly hadn’t expected Fang Shuwen to resort to violence the moment the conversation turned sour.

One step behind led to every step being behind, and that was how he had fallen into this predicament.

As he watched the palm descend, he found he could do nothing but close his eyes and wait for death. His heart was filled with endless regret.

But just as Fang Shuwen’s palm was about to land on the crown of the old man’s head, he suddenly changed the attack, winding up and landing a resounding slap across the old man’s face.

A crisp SMACK echoed through the room.

The slap sent the old man surnamed Gu flying, spinning several times in mid-air.

He crashed into a chair, knocking it over before collapsing onto the floor.

He was slapped silly. Dazed, he looked up, almost forgetting what year it was.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before any words came out, he spat out several of his back teeth.

When he looked up again, he saw that Fang Shuwen, after delivering the slap, had already returned to his seat and picked up his teacup.

After gently nudging the tea leaves with the lid and taking a sip, Fang Shuwen finally fixed his gaze on the old man. His voice was laced with ice.

"You think you’re worthy of teaching me on my master’s behalf?"

The old man’s face instantly flushed crimson. The fiery red palm print on his cheek was still a deathly pale at its center; it would likely be a while before it started to swell.

Against the backdrop of his crimson face, the print stood out with shocking clarity.

However, neither the Great Monk nor the scholar present spared the old man a glance. Their eyes were fixed on Fang Shuwen.

The Great Monk sighed in admiration.

"What an excellent Palm Technique. What excellent Martial Arts.

"Young Benefactor, you make the complex seem simple and wield your power with perfect control. Every casual move is a masterstroke. I am truly impressed!"

Fang Shuwen smiled.

"Great Monk, you jest. It’s just a parlor trick, hardly worth mentioning."

The Great Monk simply shook his head, saying no more.

Murong Qingchen, however, seemed lost in thought. Suddenly, he mimicked the motion, his palm lifting and pressing. He was clearly replicating Fang Shuwen’s Vajra Tower Throwing, but it had the form without the essence.

After a moment of contemplation, he spoke.

"That Palm Technique appears simple, yet it holds infinite variations. Even among the myriad Divine Techniques of the Buddhist Sect, it would surely be considered extraordinary.

"I wonder, what is the name of this technique?"

Fang Shuwen was taken aback. He hadn’t expected Murong Qingchen to have already picked up the move after seeing it just once.

’This pedantic scholar is no simple character!’

Just as he was about to speak, the bray of a donkey sounded from outside, immediately followed by a voice.

"That is the first form of the Esoteric Buddhism Divine Technique, the Great Black Heaven God Palm. It is called Vajra Tower Throwing.

"This Martial Arts consists of eight forms in total. It embodies the principles of simplifying the complex, of great skill appearing clumsy. It’s a Demon-Suppressing Divine Power that relies on overwhelming force to defeat all techniques."

Everyone turned toward the voice. They saw a young man, who looked at the world as if it perpetually displeased him and everyone in it owed him money, arriving at the main hall’s entrance with a charmingly smiling young woman.

The young man’s eyes held a deep-seated gloom. He spoke in a weary tone.

"Nearly two hundred years ago, a great fire in the Esoteric Buddhism destroyed many Divine Technique manuals, among them the Great Black Heaven God Palm.

"The last Great Lama to have mastered this art vanished without a trace while pursuing a traitor.

"Consequently, this Martial Arts has been lost to the Esoteric Buddhism for two hundred years... I never expected to see it here.

"If you encounter anyone from the Esoteric Buddhism in the future, they will likely ask you to return this Martial Arts.

"You should use that as an opportunity to ask for some compensation. I imagine they won’t refuse.

"Don’t feel shy about it. After all, without you, they’d never recover this Divine Technique in their lifetime. It’s only right that they compensate you."

Fang Shuwen gave the young man a surprised look.

’Who knew this gloomy-faced young man was so well-informed?’

Murong Qingchen looked up at him thoughtfully, squinting for a moment before asking:

"Is your surname Chen?"

The young man nodded.

"This junior is Chen Yan. My father is Chen Xuanji."

"So you are the son of an old acquaintance. You look a lot like your father."

Murong Qingchen smiled.

"Your father’s donkey, however, was much more obedient than yours."

"..."

After grinding his teeth for a long moment, Chen Yan finally snorted.

"Sooner or later, I’m going to slaughter it and roast it!"

The charmingly smiling young woman beside him turned her gaze to the old man surnamed Gu, who still hadn’t managed to get up from the floor. Her face was a picture of surprise.

"Oh, my! Sir, why are you sitting on the floor? It’s so chilly down there. You should get up quickly. After all, with your old bones... ah, I mean, at your advanced age, you wouldn’t want to catch a chill deep in your bones. That would be quite unpleasant."

Hearing this, the old man surnamed Gu actually felt a little better. ’See? Now *this* is how a member of the younger generation should behave!’

But then it seemed the girl had let something slip... ’Did I hear that right?’ he wondered.

The more he thought about it, the stranger her words seemed...

’I should ask who she is.’

But a sudden, sharp throb from the palm print on his face made him grit his teeth. He didn’t dare to ask.

Just then, Murong Qingchen abruptly stood up. Fang Shuwen asked casually,

"Senior, where are you going?"

"To see Wu Lingxiao."

With that, he walked directly toward the inner hall.

Fang Shuwen raised his eyebrows slightly and shot Lu Guiyan a meaningful look.

"Come on. We’re going too."