I
In the martial world, nothing is too strange to be true. There was even a monk who called himself the Meat-and-Wine Monk, his ways clearly straying from the Buddhist path, his cultivation following a method of its own. The Crippled Wanderer was born disabled, bullied since childhood, and it was only then that he vowed to seek out great masters. After years of hardship, he finally gained the favor of a reclusive sage who accepted him as a disciple.
When the Meat-and-Wine Monk mocked him with the insult "stinking cripple," the Crippled Wanderer's fury boiled over. Rage surged within him as he roared, "Bald donkey! If I do not make you taste suffering today, I am unworthy to live in this world!"
Before the monk could react, the Crippled Wanderer gave a thunderous shout and sprang forward. A torrent of unstoppable inner force shot out like an arrow, striking with the force of lightning. Startled, the Meat-and-Wine Monk quickly performed Phantom of My Buddha, his palms drawing arcs that shimmered in the air, shadows layering upon shadows. But the Crippled Wanderer pressed in mercilessly, while Heaven-Cripple and Earth-Cripple unleashed the eighth stance of their Nineteen Forms, Born of Heaven's Gift. The four clashed fiercely, their battle instantly blazing white-hot. Qi surged and collided, the wind howled, sand and dust swirled in a storm.
Like a ghost, the Crippled Wanderer darted within their three-pronged assault. With only an iron crutch, he countered their combined attacks, his movements eerie and unpredictable, unlike any common martial art. The Meat-and-Wine Monk's face hardened as his palms flew, Buddhist energy surging forth in endless waves, forming an illusory prison to trap him. Heaven-Cripple and Earth-Cripple attacked in perfect harmony—one driving in with a fierce charge, the other covering with blinding speed, their Nineteen Forms flowing like a storm, forcing the Crippled Wanderer back.
But with a cold snort, he tapped his toe on the ground and shot into the air, robes fluttering. His crutch stabbed downward with killing force—Soul-Breaking Strike! The Meat-and-Wine Monk crossed his palms to block, but the impact numbed his arms and nearly toppled him. The Crippled Wanderer did not relent, his palms flashing in a blur before he suddenly unleashed Thunder's Wrath. His inner power surged like roaring thunder, a devastating palm strike slamming toward the monk's chest. The monk was horrified and hastily gathered his qi to parry. Their forces collided with a thunderclap, shockwaves rippling outward, sand exploding into the air.
Heaven-Cripple and Earth-Cripple seized the opening, one charging from the front, his crutch darting like a serpent, the other soaring from behind, both palms clapping down to end it all in one strike. Yet the Crippled Wanderer's body blurred like a phantom, slipping past their combined assault. Drawing a deep breath, he soared upward, lightness skill at its peak, faster than a falling star, and dove straight for the Meat-and-Wine Monk. The monk thrust out a palm in desperation, but the Wanderer's form suddenly shifted—an iron crutch swept across with a dull thud, striking the monk's Qi Sea acupoint. The monk groaned and toppled.
Heaven-Cripple and Earth-Cripple cried out and launched their ninth stance, Life from Death. One dashed in from the left, the other flashed in from the right, quick as lightning. But the Crippled Wanderer gathered his full strength, his robes billowing, his crutch whirling as both palms struck like twin bolts of lightning. They crashed down, and with two thunderous bangs, both cripples were hurled away, blood spraying from their mouths.
The Meat-and-Wine Monk staggered up, face pale, eyes burning with defiance. But the Crippled Wanderer already stood at the center, iron crutch tapping the ground, his expression cold, his killing aura towering.
By now, dusk had fallen. The mountains loomed vast like waves, the setting sun bled across the sky, its chill warmth shining upon the earth. The crimson glow bore witness to this earth-shaking battle. Alone against three, the Crippled Wanderer had displayed world-shattering skill.
He cast his gaze coldly upon the fallen foes and said in a proud, ringing voice: "Heaven-Cripple, Earth-Cripple, Meat-and-Wine Monk—do you now concede defeat?"
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. The Crippled Wanderer became the hero of the hour. Ke Wen, eldest of the Shaanbei Four Freaks, stepped forward, bowing with respect: "Today, we have seen Brother Hen's unmatched power with our own eyes. Even these three must admit defeat!"
Fourth brother Wang Hu strode to Heaven-Cripple's side and asked loudly, "Do you yield?" Gravely injured, Heaven-Cripple, once so arrogant, now hung his head in silence.
Third brother Jian Shao sneered at the Meat-and-Wine Monk: "So, monk—still dreaming of fine delicacies? What say you now?"
The monk, bloodied and weary, could no longer endure such jeers. "Were I not wounded, would you dare taunt me so?" he spat.
"Oh? Not convinced?" Jian Shao retorted. "Then let me test your skills myself!"
Ke Wen cut in, his voice grim: "Brother Hen, these three are evil-hearted, coveting your secret manual. Why not kill them here and end this trouble once and for all?"
Jian Shao's eyes gleamed. "The Meat-and-Wine Monk insulted you. Let me send him to the Western Paradise!" He struck without warning.
Though gravely wounded, the monk had been on guard. His face changed and he barely managed to parry and dodge, countering with a cold snarl: "Dream on if you think you can kill me!"
At that instant, robes fluttered and a powerful figure spun into the fray. A pair of mighty palms clashed, splitting the combatants apart. A commanding voice rang out: "This man bears no great evil. His crime does not merit death!"
The speaker was none other than Wu Tong, Lord of the famed Loyalty Hall. Jian Shao froze, startled. "Who are you?"
The newcomer replied firmly: "I am Wu Tong, master of the Loyalty Hall."
The Shaanbei Freaks were taken aback. Ke Wen quickly stepped forward: "So it is the renowned Wu Hall Master. Forgive us for our disrespect."
But second brother Qian scoffed, "Does the Loyalty Hall meddle in too many affairs?" Wang Hu sneered, "These three sought to seize the manual. They lost the duel—what more is there to say?"
Wu Tong strode toward the Crippled Wanderer, bowed deeply, and said: "Today we have witnessed your peerless skill. Alone you routed the Three Great Fiends of the Central Plains, sending them fleeing in terror. Then you crushed the schemes of these three, who sought to steal your manual, leaving them broken and bleeding, regret surely searing their hearts. Such power leaves all present in awe."
Hearing this, Hen Buping swelled with pride. Praise from the famed Wu Tong himself was no small honor. Even so arrogant a man as the Crippled Wanderer could not help but reply with humility:
"I am unworthy of such words. Yet these three sought my secret art. Though defeated today and not deserving of death, if they are not punished, who can say they will not strike again? Lord Wu, I ask your wise counsel."