Chapter 40: The Question

Amidst a sound resembling a dragon's roar, a forceful blast of palm energy shattered Kumarajiva's Flame Blade.

"What a fine Flame Blade!" Wang Yuyan flicked her right hand, pulling back her whip. Having studied the martial arts of the world since childhood, she naturally recognized the technique Kumarajiva was using, even if it was a secret art of the Tantric sect!

With these words, she leaped from her horse, descending from the sky to strike Kumarajiva with a palm blow.

Accompanied by a dragon's roar, this strike was overwhelmingly fierce, resembling a divine dragon from the highest heavens extending a single claw.

Before the palm even reached him, Kumarajiva could feel the immense gale force of it!

"Well struck!" Seeing the fierce and formidable nature of the incoming blow, he met it with a palm strike of his own aimed upward.

It was none other than the "Bala Palm" from the seventy-two supreme techniques of Shaolin!

With a sharp *bang*, their palms collided!

Kumarajiva felt a powerful surge of force and was forced to retreat half a step, while Wang Yuyan used the rebound of the palm force to leap gracefully back onto the horse's back.

"To possess such cultivation at such a young age! The martial arts world of the Central Plains is truly not to be underestimated!" Kumarajiva felt a slight numbness in his right palm and could not help exclaiming.

He had wreaked havoc at Tianlong Temple in Dali, subduing the old and the young alike with effortless ease. Never had he expected that here in the city of Suzhou, a random young girl could make him feel such pressure!

Wang Yuyan also perceived that the monk before her possessed profound cultivation. Looking down at Kumarajiva from her elevated position, she said, "It is quite remarkable that you, a wicked monk, were able to block my *Heroic Palm*!"

"Fortunately, it wasn't the newly added seventy-two techniques of Shaolin; otherwise, it truly would have been troublesome!"

Blessed with a photographic memory since childhood, she was well-versed in the martial arts of the world as well as ancient and modern history. Whenever she encountered the regrets recorded in history, she could not help but be filled with deep emotion.

At the same time, a question arose in her heart.

Heroes throughout history were mostly men; why were there so few female heroes?

Was it that women were inferior to men?

No! Who said women are inferior to men?

Whatever men could do, she could do as well!

Therefore, she gathered the strengths of hundreds of martial arts schools and created her very own martial art—the *Heroic Palm*!

A true hero possesses great ambitions in the heart, brilliant strategies in the mind, the capacity to encompass the universe, and the will to command the heavens and the earth.

Women could be heroes too!

A hero is like a dragon, thus the wind of the Heroic Palm roars like a dragon!

Because of this, she had carved out a formidable reputation around Gusu.

The people of Suzhou city all called her the "Female Overlord!"

"This monk has no grudges or enmity with the young lady!" Sensing the formidable difficulty of the person before him, Kumarajiva said, "Why must the young lady be so aggressive?"

Wang Yuyan snorted coldly and said, "When one sees injustice on the road, one draws a sword to help! You were kidnapping someone first, how could I just sit by and do nothing?"

When encountering injustice, where are there so many excuses?

At this moment, Duan Yu, gazing at the heroic and spirited Wang Yuyan, became even more infatuated.

It was as if he had seen the light.

Kumarajiva sighed and said, "This poor monk merely wishes to pay his respects to the late Lord Murong!"

This person's martial arts were no lower than his own; under normal circumstances, he would have welcomed a sparring match. But currently, he was carrying Duan Yu, and he feared that any slight lapse would allow Duan Yu to escape.

Having brought him thousands of miles all the way from Dali, only to have the captive run away right at the doorstep of the Murong family would be utterly improper and a risk not worth taking.

Once he had paid his respects to the late Lord Murong, he would come back to settle accounts with this young woman!

"Paying respects is fine, but burning people is not!" Wang Yuyan said. "There are incense and candle shops in Suzhou city; you might as well just buy some paper money and candles instead!"

After a moment of silence, Kumarajiva glanced at the black steed beside Wang Yuyan, then suddenly raised his hand and slashed a Flame Blade directly at the black horse.

"How dare you!" Seeing that Kumarajiva was targeting her beloved horse, Wang Yuyan hurriedly threw a palm strike to intercept the Flame Blade!

When she looked up again, Kumarajiva had already grabbed Duan Yu and soared away like a giant bird.

"Where do you think you're going!" Realizing instantly that Kumarajiva had made a feint to the east while attacking the west, Wang Yuyan gave chase.

Only... she felt a strange sense of oddity in her heart.

For a national preceptor of a country to engage in such behavior was truly unbefitting of his status.

On second thought, Tibet had a population of only one or two million; though called a country, it did not even have half the population of Eastern Jiangnan. The vision and stature of a so-called national preceptor could well be imagined.

Kumarajiva ran while carrying a person, and Wang Yuyan chased after them on horseback.

However, humans could leap onto rooftops, but horses could not!

Moreover, Kumarajiva was quite crafty; he used several street corners to create the illusion of his escape route, then fled in the opposite direction. Within a few turns, he had shaken off Wang Yuyan.

Wang Yuyan's experience in the pugilistic world was still too shallow.

As for Duan Yu, who had wanted to open his mouth to give a warning, his mouth had long since been stuffed shut by Kumarajiva.

Having shaken off Wang Yuyan, Kumarajiva asked a passerby for the location of the "Canhe Manor." However, after asking seven or eight people in a row, not a single one knew.

People within Suzhou city spoke the local dialect. While he was indeed proficient in Central Plains and Sanskrit, and slightly versed in the Khitan language, he did not understand the local dialect!

This exchange left his head spinning like a top.

Finally, an old man said, "In and around Suzhou city, there isn't a single estate called Canhe Manor. Great monk, you must be looking in the wrong place."

Kumarajiva asked, "There is a prominent master of the manor surnamed Murong. May I ask where he lives?"

The old man replied, "In Suzhou city, there are those surnamed Gu, Lu, Shen, Zhang, Zhou, Wen... those are all prominent masters of manors, but who has ever heard of anyone surnamed Murong? Never heard of it."

Could the late Lord Murong have deceived him all those years ago?

Or was Canhe Manor simply not in Suzhou city at all?

Just as he was filled with doubt, he suddenly heard a young man say, "Monk, why are you asking about my home?"

Following the sound, Kumarajiva saw a youth of about eighteen or nineteen, tilting his head and sizing him up.

The youth had an exceedingly clever and lively face, dressed in brocade robes, with a pair of large, highly spirited eyes.

"Are you... someone from Canhe Manor?" Kumarajiva asked doubtfully.

"That's right! I am Murong Xing, and Canhe Manor is my home!" Murong Xing said.

Overjoyed, Kumarajiva said, "So it is Young Master Murong!"

"This poor monk is the National Preceptor of Tibet, Abbot of Dailun Temple, Kumarajiva! Many years ago, I had an old acquaintance with Lord Murong! Passing by your esteemed manor today, I have come specifically to pay my respects to Lord Murong!"

Murong Xing said, "You want to pay your respects to my father?"

"Precisely!" Kumarajiva said, pressing his palms together in a salute.

"Then who is he?" Murong Xing pointed at Duan Yu, who was tightly bound and unable to speak.

"This matter is a long story. Once we reach your esteemed manor, all will be explained." Kumarajiva was unwilling to breed extra complications, fearing that the youth before him might turn out to be another busybody fond of dispensing justice.

Murong Xing nodded and said, "Very well! When the boat arrives shortly, we'll head back together."

The boat he spoke of arrived very quickly; it was a small, black-awninged craft, more than spacious enough to seat three or four people.

What surprised them was that the person rowing the boat was a young girl.

The girl was around sixteen or seventeen years old, her face full of gentleness and her entire demeanor full of grace. As soon as she spoke, her voice was exceptionally sweet and clear: "Brother Xing, didn't you go to visit the master today?"

"Who are these two? Are they coming home with us too?"

"Abbi younger sister, this great monk says he's come to pay respects to my father." Murong Xing leaped lightly onto the boat and said to the rowing girl.

Kumarajiva hauled Duan Yu aboard as well, just as he heard Murong Xing say:

"As for the master... sigh, I spoke a few words to him, and the master chased me right out."

Abbi said, "Did Brother Xing ask strange questions again?"

Murong Xing sighed and said, "I merely told the master that I had already figured out how to balance loyalty and filial piety perfectly!"

"And the master asked, how can one balance loyalty and filial piety perfectly?"

"I said, if you treat the emperor like a son, wouldn't loyalty and filial piety both be fulfilled?"