Chapter 7 The Chosen One

The Zen Heart Courtyard is the place where Shaolin receives guests. It consists of multiple courtyards. At this time, bare trees stand and a thin layer of snow covers it.

Meng Qi was waving a broom to clean up the remaining snow in the courtyard. Suddenly, the door of a side room opened, and a little Taoist priest with a bun on his head stood by the door and shouted: "Little monk, the room is a little dirty, come and clean it."

"Okay, donor." Meng Qi saluted with one hand and walked to the side room with the broom in hand. The little Taoist priest who still had some childishness had already returned to the room.

Meng Qi arrived at the door and looked inside, only to see seven or eight people inside the room. They were all dressed in different and colorful clothes, which was much more eye-catching than the monotonous clothes of Shaolin.

Hey, there seems to be a girl? Meng Qi didn't dare to take a closer look, so as not to lose his etiquette, but just now he took a quick look and seemed to see a girl wearing a goose-yellow dress.

It seems that Shaolin in this world does not prohibit female guests from entering... Meng Qi carefully passed several guests, intending to clean up the broken teacups on the floor.

Suddenly, a foot stretched out from nowhere, right in front of Meng Qi's feet.

Meng Qi had no time to retract his legs and tripped onto it. He felt that his body had lost its center of gravity and stumbled forward.

In surprise, Meng Qi vaguely saw that the person who tried to trip him was the little Taoist priest with a double bun just now. His facial features were profound, and the most eye-catching thing was his pair of thick black eyebrows that looked like two flying knives. , at this time, he didn't even look at Meng Qi, and stared in front of Meng Qi with his bright eyes.

Meng Qi waved his arms, trying to keep his balance and prevent him from falling, but the little Taoist priest's timing of stretching out his legs was so good that he was never able to regain his center of gravity. He could only see the ground getting closer and closer sadly, and imagined in his mind I fell down and looked miserable like a dog chewing shit.

At this time, a flash of goose-yellow color caught Meng Qi's eyes, and then, a long sword wrapped in a heavy copper-green scabbard appeared inexplicably like a flying giant from the sky, and gently pressed against Meng Qi's chest.

The force of this long sword was so light that Meng Qi could hardly feel the pain, but its angle and strength were just right, allowing Meng Qi to stop his fall and regain his balance.

Meng Qi raised his head in confusion, and happened to see a very bright face. She had dark eyebrows and big eyes. Her black hair was simply pulled up and draped down smoothly. She was wearing a goose-yellow dress. She was about sixteen or seventeen years old. Years old, but there is no trace of childishness.

Her pink lips were slightly parted, and her voice was as clear as an oriole: "The Xuantian Sect calls itself the Heavenly Emperor's lineage. Is this the lineage that bullies children?"

Hum, the little Taoist priest of Xuantian Sect did not answer, but just hummed softly.

The girl turned to look at Meng Qi and suddenly smiled. Two pear dimples loomed around her mouth, making her look very sweet: "Little monk, don't worry about that bad guy. He just wants to use you to test my swordsmanship."

At this point, she pursed her lips slightly and raised her head slightly: "But even if he sees my swordsmanship, so what?"

She didn't say it directly, but Meng Qi felt a sense of pride and confidence in his own strength.

"Thank you, girl, for saving me." Meng Qi stood firm and subconsciously thanked him.

The girl retracted her sword and laughed loudly: "You look like a young master from a noble family, not a young monk. You should be called the female donor."

Then she turned her sword upside down and returned the salute: "Well, my name is Jiang Zhiwei, a disciple of Xijian Pavilion. I'm really sorry to involve you in the fight between us."

At this time, the little Taoist priest of Xuantian Sect snorted again: "I just didn't expect Shaolin disciples to be so weak. They would trip and fall casually."

His eyebrows were raised, and matching the childish look on his face, he looked a bit pushy.

"He is just a handyman monk. Why don't you let me weigh your handyman's martial arts to see if he is as strong as you?" Jiang Zhiwei said sarcastically with a smile on her lips.

"You!" The little Taoist stood up immediately.

"What are you doing?" A deep voice suddenly sounded at the door.

Meng Qi looked back and saw a young man wearing a Bagua robe walking in with his hands behind his back. He had long eyebrows, a straight nose, and electric eyes.

At first glance, Meng Qi thought that this handsome and masculine man was in his twenties, but after a closer look, he could tell from his brows that he was probably only seventeen or eighteen years old.

He has a very mature temperament... Meng Qi calmed down his angry and aggrieved mood and commented secretly.

"Senior Brother Zhang, Qingjing tripped this young monk to test my swordsmanship." Jiang Zhiwei simply stated the matter without adding any detail.

Senior Brother Zhang looked at Qingjing and said calmly and confidently: "Now that you have left the mountain gate, every move you make represents the Xuantian Sect. Don't lose your dignity."

"Yes, Senior Brother Zhang." The little Taoist priest replied a little aggrievedly, but it seemed that Senior Brother Zhang had a high prestige among the young disciples of various sects. Everyone else in the room was silent, and no one spoke for Qingjing.

"I was too reckless." The little Taoist priest turned to Meng Qi and said, then quickly turned his head away.

Meng Qi took a breath and said nothing more, "The little monk is really determined."

Senior brother Zhang gently nodded and said to Meng Qi: "Junior brother Zhending, I am Zhang Yuanshan of the Zhenwu sect. Friends from all sects value me. Please call me senior brother. Please forgive me for what happened today."

It's just that my martial arts skills are low... Meng Qi didn't say this. He nodded, indicating that he wouldn't take such trivial matters to his heart. Then he clasped his hands together, chanted a Buddha's name in a low voice, buried his head in cleaning the floor, and exited. Room.

"This little monk has some backbone..." Meng Qi vaguely heard Jiang Zhiwei's comment from a distance.

After returning to the errand house, there was still some time before lunch, but Meng Qi was still upset and wanted to practice martial arts urgently. However, the "100-day foundation building" had been completed, and there was no method for "meditation and qi accumulation", so he had to hide in the meditation room and practice Luohan Fist over and over again to strengthen his body.

At lunch time, Zhenhui and others did not come back. It was said that they were arranged to clean the Dharma Courtyard, where the disciples of various sects fought and exchanged ideas.

It was not until the evening that Meng Qi saw Zhenyan, Zhenhui and others come back. They were excited and kept communicating with each other.

"Will the competition start in the afternoon?" Meng Qi's heart moved, and he quickly stepped forward and asked.

Zhenhui nodded vigorously: "Yeah, it's exciting! It's a pity that you are not here, brother."

Zhenyan nodded slightly, then sighed: "Their age is similar to mine, but their martial arts are ten times better than mine, ah..."

Comparing people makes people angry... This sentence suddenly popped up in Meng Qi's mind, and then he asked curiously, "Who is the final winner?"

"It's so exciting in the end, long sword, Taoist..." Zhenhui shook his hands and said excitedly, but his language organization was too chaotic, and Meng Qi couldn't understand it.

Zhenyan smiled and said: "The final decisive battle was between Zhang Yuanshan of Zhenwu Sect and Miss Jiang Zhiwei of Xijian Pavilion. Hehe, they defeated young disciples from various sects before, including Zhenmiao and Zhenben."

Zhenyan looked gloating over the defeat of the two brothers who entered the temple together.

"Zhenwu Sect, Xijian Pavilion?" At some point, Xuanxin came over, "Hey, the young disciples of these two sects actually met each other in a narrow road."

"Enemies in a narrow road?" Meng Qi felt that Zhang Yuanshan and Jiang Zhiwei had a good relationship.

Xuanxin sighed, "The Taoist school has a magical skill that can rival the "Tathagata Palm", called "Seven Swords of the Sky", which has been lost for a long time. The foundation of the Zhenwu School and Xijian Pavilion is one of them. The relationship between them is similar to that between the Vajra Temple and my Shaolin. Moreover, Xijian Pavilion only respects the Taoist ancestors and does not join the Taoist school. Who lost in the end?"

"Zhenwu School's Zhang Yuanshan lost to Miss Jiang Zhiwei by half a move." Zhenyan answered quickly. He said this according to the evaluation of the head monk Kongjian of the Dharma Academy.

Xuanxin was stunned for a moment: "The little girl of Xijian Pavilion won? It won't be another Su Wuming, hehe, be careful that the strong will break easily."

The monks discussed this martial arts competition until very late. After returning to the Zen room, Meng Qi couldn't calm down for a long time. Thinking of Zhang Yuanshan and Jiang Zhiwei, who were like dragons and phoenixes among people, and then thinking about himself, he was really irritable.

The bright moon outside the window shone through the thin clouds, reflecting a scene of shallow water waves in front of the bed.

"When can I leave the errand house and really start practicing martial arts..." Meng Qi couldn't help thinking about it, and decided to ask Zhenguan and Zhenying, two long-time errand monks. Uncle Xuanzang must have arranged him here for a purpose.

"Brother Zhenguan, Brother Zhenying, do you know how to leave the errand house? Or do you have any specific requirements?" As long as the requirements are clear and not just in his mind, Meng Qi believes that he has a chance to achieve it.

Hearing this, Zhenying, who loves to sleep, sat up and laughed loudly: "I spent a lot of time and effort to enter Shaolin, but I am still trapped here for three years. In two years, I will be sent out of the temple. I have accomplished nothing. Haha, I have accomplished nothing. How can I face my parents at home!"

His laughter was uglier than crying, with a hint of cuckoo weeping blood.

"Leave the errand house? Humph, I haven't seen anyone succeed in the past seven years! Hey, Xuanku, that bald donkey, is just bragging and tricking us into doing hard labor!" Zhenguan gritted his teeth and said as if he wanted to eat someone's flesh and blood.

After hearing their answers, Meng Qi's hopes were extinguished like a basin of cold water, and he felt lost.

Zhenying and Zhenguan made a noise for a while, then fell silent again, and fell into a state of "autism" again, while Zhenhui's breathing became longer and longer, and it was obvious that he was already fast asleep.

Meng Qi looked out the window and found it difficult to fall asleep. He felt like a bird trapped in a cage, unable to break free. He was anxious, anxious, frustrated and other emotions.

It was unknown how long it took before Meng Qi fell into a dream.

The moonlight was like water, shining on Meng Qi, as if covering him with a layer of gauze. Suddenly, a touch of green light appeared on his chest, which was very strange.