Chapter 484 - 143: Thunder in the Alley (2/2)

Words : 1937 Updated : Dec 1st, 2025

What happens in Chapter 484 of "Why do I have so many masters?"? Wang Anfeng had been lingering in Ningzheng City for over half a month, with the... Read on to find out!

Wang Anfeng had been lingering in Ningzheng City for over half a month, with the New Year festival just five or six days away. Firstly, he had matters to attend to, and secondly, he couldn't bear to leave behind the city's baked sesame cakes and rice porridge, which in the eyes of Guard Wang, could well be compared to the ladies in the flower buildings. Where else could he find such delicious sesame cakes once he left this place? Naturally, he had to eat his fill. Moreover, with a comfortable room and bed, people to tend to his needs, he had no intention of leaving just yet. However, poor Shopkeeper Zhou Gang of the guesthouse had to put on a smiling face and suffer losses. Every time he saw the relaxed young man, he'd think of his own business bleeding money and inwardly bleed himself, wishing he could slap himself hard enough to swell up his nose and face. Damn it, his heart must have been clogged up with pork grease! What was he thinking when he decided to cheat this lord? Looking at his own palm, capable of bewildering a fat pig with a slap, he just lightly patted his cheek, unable to bring himself to strike hard. No matter the complaints in his heart, when facing the lord, he had to smile, and not only smile, but smile sincerely, earnestly, so genuinely that even the servant boys in the guesthouse felt his joy. But only he knew the bitterness behind it. With a sigh, Zhou Gang felt it was about the right time. He looked up and, indeed, saw that the young lord had locked himself inside his room again, with the doors and windows tightly shut. The innkeeper, with his simple and honest face, smacked his lips, withdrew his gaze, and had no inclination to peek. Peek and seek death?! Wang Anfeng might suffer a loss, but Zhou Gang would certainly be a dead man. No way, he wouldn't look even if killed. The burly, former Jianghu wanderer, famed for his brutal axe technique, sat obediently on a stool, holding a cup of hot tea brewed with red dates and goji berries, eyes on nose, nose on heart, exuding a semblance of 'obedience'. These days, Wang Anfeng made daily visits to the back mountain of Shaolin Temple, to the courtyard in the bamboo forest, seeking out the recently appeared Taoist to exchange swordplay tips and learn martial arts. He took occasional side blows, often frequent side blows, hoping to uncover some of Mr. Ying's past. He wasn't much interested in the swordsmanship of Zixiao Palace, but he was very much concerned about these matters, his curiosity refusing to halt, like a cat scratching incessantly at his heart, tickling him. But the Ancient Taoist guarded his secrets well, no matter how Wang Anfeng probed, he achieved nothing. The Taoist was always smiling, yet adeptly deflected any probe with casual ease, seemingly very experienced at handling these situations. Strangely enough, despite the white-haired Taoist's exceptionally handsome features, which could rival those of Mu Shanxue's junior brother, the tea he brewed was downright terrible, and his handwriting was atrocious, far worse than that of village children in school. Wang Anfeng thought it over and figured that maybe when Ancient Taoist was reincarnating, the heavens had been drunk and whimsical, taking all of the Taoist's talent and distributing nine parts to swordsmanship, with the remaining part placed entirely on his face. After all, according to his third master, that was a face that could be used in lieu of meals, something Wang Anfeng couldn't hope to match. Thrown into the street, he would definitely not starve to death, and might even be picked up by some wealthy family to become a son-in-law, effortlessly gaining a beauty for a wife. Perhaps even two. So goes the saying, a dragon with two phoenixes and twin swallows in flight, an embarrassment of riches. When Hong Luoyu spoke these words, he was expressive, but the always smiling Taoist would frown, his bright eyes, sharp like a sword, fixating on Hong Luoyu, as if contemplating from which angle to strike with his blade. Meanwhile, Wang Anfeng just practiced his swordsmanship on the side, looking at this suddenly emerged elder and thinking that the so-called beauties mentioned by his third master couldn't possibly be as attractive as the Taoist. Food and sex are human nature, everyone naturally likes good-looking things. Yet, curiously, Mr. Ying never showed a hint of a good expression at the sight of the Taoist's face, looking quite foul, so much so that even the third master didn't dare approach. But the Taoist would always find reasons to hover near Mr. Ying. The worse Mr. Ying's expression, the more energetically the Taoist approached. At such moments, Wang Anfeng would feel a strange tension rise within him—the same he felt as a child when he watched the adults in the village set off firecrackers, instinctively covering his ears. Wanting to watch, yet not daring to. Ci Yuan simply closed his eyes directly, sitting cross-legged on a bluestone, softly chanting sutras, entering the Empty Bright Realm of meditative concentration. Wu Changqing pretended to fall asleep, his eyes half-closed, soon producing light, rhythmic snoring. Hong Luoyu landed beside Wang Anfeng, smacked his lips, looking at the scholar in green with a foul expression that didn't leave, nudged Wang Anfeng with his shoulder, then with a puzzled look from the youngster, lowered his voice and said, "You understand why we do those things now, don't you?" The voice of the master thief was filled with lament and emotion, his eyes unblinkingly fixed on the scene as if fearing missing a moment was a great loss, his lips moving incessantly, saying, "Just for this kind of tense and thrilling feeling..." "Hey, it's almost irresistibly delightful!" S~eaʀᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Wang Anfeng shivered internally, almost dropping his sword. He held the longsword in his hand, eyes on nose, nose on heart, solely focusing on his swordsmanship, not daring to join the chat, much less to remind Hong Luoyu not to speak. "What's with you aaaaah..." Getting no response, Hong Luoyu raised his eyebrows. In the next instant, the thief who had been expounding beside Wang Anfeng only managed to let out a short and high-pitched scream before vanishing from atop the lonely peak. In front of him, a Taoist in a grey and white Taoist robe stood with his sword in his arms, a faint smile playing on his lips. That smile gave one a tingling sensation in their scalp. Mr. Ying, looking rather pale, sat in a bamboo chair below, his hand lowered, and his gaze shifting to rest on Wang Anfeng, paused for a moment, and said in a cold voice, "Since you are to temporarily seal off your martial arts and re-cultivate the Lei Dao, why are you still here?" Wang Anfeng was momentarily stunned. He then realized that Mr. Ying must be aware of these matters, presuming that the Ancient Taoist must have informed his master of his situation. Facing the stern gaze of the scholar in the green shirt, he opened his mouth but found he didn't know how to explain. The scholar didn't get angry but only raised his hand to rub his brow and said indifferently, "The martial arts taught to you by Li Qidao do not fall beneath those we teach you." "Since you have such an opportunity today, it would be good for you to pick up these three martial arts anew. Come to think of it, you haven't visited Copper Man Lane for several days. Take this chance to get well acquainted with it." Over the years, the person Wang Anfeng was most familiar with was undoubtedly the aloof scholar before him, and the youth was well aware that since Mr. Ying had spoken, there was no room for negotiating. If he dared to talk back, he would likely end up like the Third Master—spiraling up into the sky then thrown into Copper Man Lane without any discount—in comparison, there might be a slight chance for a discount if it had been his leg. Wang Anfeng helplessly opened his mouth but had no choice but to sheathe his sword and stand at attention, then bowing with his fist to his chest, he said, "Yes." The scholar flicked his sleeve and said, "Go." Wang Anfeng, feeling helpless, bowed to the white-haired Taoist, returned the heavy wooden sword to its scabbard, and using his qinggong, set off in the direction of Copper Man Lane. Ironically, the wooden sword on his back, since the trip to Pharmacist Valley three years ago, had undergone a complete transformation and displayed its spiritual charm. But during this period, it had not had a chance to be drawn even once. The Ancient Taoist stood on the peak with his sword in his arms, staring absentmindedly in the direction Wang Anfeng had left, lost in thought. After a moment, he withdrew his gaze and turned to the scholar in the green shirt and said, "There is a strong surge of Thunder Vigor inside Anfeng." The scholar opened his eyes, his right hand resting on the bamboo slips on his knee, and spoke faintly, "Indeed." "There was once an expert in Jianghu, above first-rate level, who extended his life by thirteen years using Thunder Vigor. Even a fool would undergo a transformation in constitution." The Taoist laughed lightly and said, "Then indeed he is quite suited for the swordsmanship of our Zixiao Palace." Upon hearing this, the scholar frowned and asked, "Then why haven't you directly taught him the swordsmanship, but instead taught him the Dharma of the Thunder Sword Art? The rest he has to figure out by himself—it seems quite superfluous." The Taoist shook his head and said, "I did intend to teach him the swordsmanship." "Then why didn't you?" The Taoist's laughter faded a bit as he looked at Mr. Ying, his tone slightly teasing, "But he refused." "He said, in his life, he only wishes to learn the swordsmanship passed down by Mr. Ying. Thus, he does not want to learn the swordsmanship of my Zixiao Palace at Mount Wudang. As you say, even though our Mount Wudang is considered a great sect in Jianghu, where is it customary to pull people, crying and shouting, to teach them swordsmanship." "It's too embarrassing." "All things are subject to fate. Since he has refused, I will not insist. After pondering, teaching him the Dharma of the Thunder Sword Art, and leaving the rest to his own fortune, is the best way." Upon hearing this, Mr. Ying fell into silence for a moment, then suddenly let out a cold huff and said, "Troublesome!" But it was unclear whether he was referring to Wang Anfeng or the Taoist by his side, still wearing a light smile. In Copper Man Lane. With a creaky sound, candles on both sides of the alley lit up in two rows. Wang Anfeng considered for a moment, decided not to remove the sword scabbard from his back, and watched as his opponent slowly emerged in front of him. He took a deep breath, clasped his palms together into fists, and collided his knuckles, sparking several arcs of electricity. "Come then!" PS: Here is the second update for today...

Chapter 484 - 143: Thunder in the Alley (2/2)

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