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With Countless Qualities Bestowed Upon Me, I Shall Ultimately Become Immortal-Chapter 805 - 607: Toast or Penalty, Qianyuan Thunder Strike, Retrieved! (6k)
In the distance, the half wheel of the setting sun was completely swallowed up by the Taihang Mountains.
Meng Chuan followed Chen Xin as they walked, their bodies gradually enveloped by the twilight, making their presence in the monastery seem distinct.
Zishou Temple [Five Views Hall].
This is the dining area within the temple, also known colloquially as the "Five Virtues Hall."
Chen Xin, the supervisor, walked in the front, while Abbot Guyue trailed behind, with the extraordinary young man Meng Chuan in between.
It happened to be meal time at the temple, and their arrival prompted the monks to glance over, yet no discussion was heard.
Chen Xin walked ahead silently, leading him to the deepest part of the Five Views Hall, behind an artificial mountain.
Behind the mountain was a large, luxurious chamber usually not accessible to the public, used to host distinguished guests.
It was quiet and deserted, more suitable for discussing confidential matters.
Chen Xin’s face was gloomy, and he spat silently: 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
"This brat is so lucky..."
As they walked through the crowd, wherever the three went, it was as if a layer of soundproof blanket was laid over the area, leaving it dead silent.
Even the spoons used for serving meals were handled gently, their chewing barely audible, as all monks made every effort not to make a sound.
Meng Chuan could sense a certain emotion in the air; all the monks hoped they would hurry up and disappear...
Looking around, it appeared that the Abbot and Supervisor monks, usually held significant authority within the temple.
Given their focus on punishment and interrogation, they were certainly seen as the source of worries by the disciples.
Even Venerable Shi, responsible for Shaolin affairs on Shaoshi Mountain, lacked their stature, and the two Martial Arts Masters enjoyed it...
Indeed, a small temple with rampant winds, a shallow pond with many turtles; the ancients were not mistaken...
Having overheard their foul talk behind his back, along with the current sight, Meng Chuan’s impression of these old monks worsened...
Chen Xin squeezed out a feigned smile at him, beckoning with one hand:
"Venerable, please come in. This is the highest-standard chamber for hosting guests in the temple, let us chat as we eat."
Meng Chuan nodded.
The three entered the chamber in sequence, and the young monk stationed outside followed Abbot Guyue inside.
Intending to serve them but was dismissed by the Abbot’s wave of hand.
"Wait outside, knock when serving the dishes."
"Yes, master."
Meng Chuan stood by the door, scanning the surroundings.
Hmm, no ambush...
Then he sat at a position with bamboo and green screens behind, facing the door directly.
Inviting the two to sit as well, taking charge as the host.
The spacious chamber, large round table, just them three, the room chilled by silence.
"This brat sure takes it easy..."
Abbot Guyue gave him a cold look, sitting a position to Meng Chuan’s left.
Chen Xin, the old monk, pondered for a moment before moving to a position to further left of the Abbot.
The host monk was now positioned in the center, making it reasonable.
As they awaited the food, the room remained quiet, exceedingly awkward.
Especially for Abbot Guyue, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Who would have thought this kid broke three, with enhanced spiritual perception, he couldn’t hide...
He was also somewhat surprised.
At twenty, reaching the state of a master.
Not just within the temple, but throughout Great Chu, he was a distinguished young talent.
If he had such Martial Arts talent...
Even as the esteemed abbot of a prominent temple, feelings of envy were hard to suppress.
The two monks exchanged a glance, having worked together for years, aware of much unspoken, all understood.
On handling this dining scene, how to deal with this young man, tactics were already set in that glance.
"Do not offend him as much as possible, but the fate of Zishou Temple rests on the artifact, it absolutely cannot be given!"
They had placed all their hopes on the Shaolin group...
All the while the item they sought, the Dragon Subduing Jade Pendant, though unused, the Shaolin monks might take it at any time.
In such case, what should be done?
"Mix truth and lies, the artifact lent to Shaolin is not at the temple!"
This way, the young man can find no fault and leave empty-handed...
At this moment, Meng Chuan seated to the far right could sense the two plotting.
He patiently closed his eyes, waiting for the dishes to be served before "acting."
He had his own plan, whether these old monks accepted or resisted depended on their later conduct...
In short, the Dragon Subduing Jade Pendant must return to its rightful owner today!
...
Minutes later, Abbot Guyue waved off the young monk serving the dishes, noticing Meng Chuan had opened his eyes.
An indescribable pair of eyes with unusual colors that attracted focus.
The Abbot was slightly stunned, instinctively turning his head to avoid the gaze, as if reacting subconsciously.
The vegetarian dishes on the table were full of color, fragrance, and flavor, freshly cooked, steam rising.
Meng Chuan’s face shrouded in mist, obscuring his emotions.
Within the quiet room, the monks felt an inexplicable tension.
Since entering, none had spoken, the atmosphere increasingly tense.
Tick-tock, tick-tock...
Water droplets from the potted plant behind Meng Chuan, splashing outside the pot.
Meanwhile, a clear voice resonated; Meng Chuan spoke directly:
"Honored monks, Meng here speaks forthrightly, forgive my bluntness.
Today, I came with one purpose, to seek the Dragon Subduing Jade Pendant."
The two monks exchanged a glance, Chen Xin understood the Abbot’s meaning.
Clearing his throat, he chuckled:
"Xiaomeng, your timing is off, the Jade Pendant has been lent out, it is not at the temple."
Very well, indeed resorting to such acts.
Meng Chuan’s face immediately darkened:
"Really? The temple was merely holding it, why lend my belonging to others?"
Once spoken, silence befell the room, save for the crisp sounds of Meng Chuan’s bowl and chopsticks clinking as he helped himself to the dishes.







