Why do I have so many masters?

Hong Luoyu grinned:

"Smart!"

The Ancient Taoist murmured: "Do you think in these past few years, could he have recreated those things in this world?"

Hong Luoyu shook his head and said: "Impossible. Back then, he only acted because he had a foundation, and we are all trapped here with no way out. How can you cook without rice?"

The Ancient Taoist couldn't help but say: "Even a clever woman cannot cook without rice."

Hong Luoyu rolled his eyes, impatiently saying:

"Alright, alright, whatever, is there any difference?"

"Anyway, what he wants to do is far too difficult. At the very least, his spiritual essence is lacking, I haven't even managed to regain my arms and legs. It's already commendable that he devoted some attention to training soldiers at the Divine Martial Mansion. Does he have any strength left? I don't believe it, my hands and feet..."

"At most, he can plant a few people, like that Shi Huaidie. If her martial arts progress further and she becomes more ruthless, she might be at the level of Zhao Keli. If you ask me, if there were spare time and spiritual essence, it would be more legitimate to focus on restoring my limbs earlier... "

"If I had my hands and feet, I tell you, all the silver saddles and white horses would be worthless."

On the Shaolin Main Peak, a scholar in a green robe had unknowingly stopped his low chanting, his left hand resting on the armrest supporting his chin, his right hand holding a scroll, his eyes lazily scanning the text.

The scroll had no writing, nor any sutra meanings, but only a sketch of a man's face in a few strokes, extraordinarily vivid. It was a middle-aged man with ordinary features, except his nose was a bit bigger than usual, making him look somewhat peculiar.

There were two characters below, one being obscured so only the character 'Yi' was discernible.

His fingers lightly tapped on the armrest.

Below the book's page, text emerged along with a simplified diagram, depicting a strong man performing a Finger Technique. The meridian paths were marked with red and black pen strokes, clearly visible.

The scholar's eyes passed over it, silently murmuring:

"Daluo Leaf Finger..."

Next, he casually swiped, altering two paths from the Taiyuan Acupoint up to the shoulders, then into the Ren meridian, back to the Dantian, diverging from the harmonious routes polished by generations of Shaolin Temple's venerable monks over centuries.

The Inner Qi circulation routes became increasingly complex, without necessarily boosting power, but indeed introducing latent risks, causing some meridians to be too frequently traversed by Qi. Ordinarily, there was no issue, it could even strengthen the resilience of Inner Qi, benefiting Inner Strength advancement significantly.

However, if this became known to someone with ill intentions, they merely needed to strike at these acupoints with Sword Qi at the right timing while the target was channeling their Qi, causing the Inner Qi to disperse chaotically and rebound to the Dantian, leaving the person paralyzed on the ground for at least half the time it takes an incense stick to burn, immobile and defenseless, no matter how skillful and adept a martial artist they might be, they would be as good as dead, easy prey.

After this alteration, the scholar's expression remained unchanged, as tranquil as if he were merely sipping tea, admiring flowers, or watching the moon.

Then his wrist moved slightly, and the pages of the book rustled, flipping over numerous pages unknowingly, showing neither addition to one side nor deduction from the other, leaving it unclear if the pages passed over were blanks or contained text, filled with martial arts secrets or similar portraits as before.

After a few moments, the pages suddenly halted, revealing the depiction of a young Hu warrior with a high-cheeked and brave visage. If Wang Anfeng were here, he would recognize him as the Hu youth rescued from slavery at Fufeng Academy four years ago, a kinsman of Tuoba Yue.

This Hu youth had been severely destitute, in the hands of slave traders, tortured and whipped nearly to death, yet now he had grown into a tall young man with a bold and domineering air of the prairie in his brow, even the portrait showed sparkling eyes, holding a knife, with a Flying Eagle perched on his right shoulder, extremely majestic.

Below, there was also an inscription, but not the usual 'A', 'B', 'C', 'D', rather the character 'Kui'.

The scholar tapped the armrest, contemplated momentarily, then turned over several pages again, which depicted a beautiful woman with gentle eyes and a charming air—she was Shi Huaidie. But this time there was no inscription, and the scholar in the green robe remained indifferent, flipping the pages again.

Make subtle alterations, several times, until his demeanor became somewhat lazy, casually setting the scroll aside, grabbing a teacup, and sipping the light tea. Behind him, a Taoist walked upon the void, glancing at the scroll on the desk, saying:

"Reading again?"

The green-robed scholar appeared relaxed, responding with a question instead:

"Not reading your Taoist Scriptures today?"

The Taoist raised an eyebrow, saying: "Even if one reads Taoist Scriptures often, there's always a desire for variety, like how daily meals can't just consist of staple foods, you also need to eat some fruits and vegetables."

"I think this book of yours is quite good."

After speaking, he raised his hand, as if casually grabbing, and as the Inner Qi surged, he had already grasped the scroll. Contrary to his expectation, there was no resistance, sparking curiosity in his heart. His eyes moved, scanning over the scroll, finding a poem about retiring into seclusion, reciting to himself:

"White linen as clothes, grass as the hut, still ask upon meeting how the world is."

"Each time playing the water-mountain forget-worry tune, lazy to recommend oneself to the noble houses...

"This, this is..."

The Taoist was slightly stunned, lifting his gaze to the scholar in the bamboo chair, the latter with his palm supporting his chin, and his fingers long and white, said calmly:

"Just some ordinary, mundane things to pass the time."

"Taoist, if you like it, I could give it to you, why take it without asking?"

The Ancient Taoist opened his mouth, somewhat embarrassed. The scholar having said this, how could he accept it, his wrist shaking as the Qi Mechanism activated, causing the scroll to return to the tabletop, leaving him at a loss for words, only saying: