The battle between Master Liaoyin and Chen Jinfeng grew ever more intense. Fierce winds howled across the मैदान, kicking up clouds of dust. Though Master Liaoyin was already suffering from internal injuries, his moves remained powerful and unyielding—each palm strike carried an unstoppable force. Chen Jinfeng, however, countered strength with softness. Her movements were light and fluid, her horsetail whisk dancing gracefully; its silver strands writhed like living serpents—sometimes coiling, sometimes striking straight—forcing Master Liaoyin to retreat again and again.
At that moment, Master Liaoyin suddenly let out a long roar. Bringing his palms together, he unleashed a surge of inner energy. Golden light radiated from his body, as if a vajra deity had descended to earth. He shouted, "Indestructible Vajra!" and shot forward like lightning toward Chen Jinfeng.
Seeing this, Chen Jinfeng frowned slightly. With a flick of her whisk, the silver strands condensed into a shimmering barrier before her. Master Liaoyin struck out with a palm, aiming for her abdomen—but just as the blow was about to land, Chen Jinfeng stepped aside and twisted her wrist. Her hands transformed into claws as she unleashed her signature technique, "Orchid Jade Claw," striking toward his chest like a flash of lightning.
Startled, Master Liaoyin thought, "This woman's skill is formidable indeed…" In an instant, he retreated several feet. Chen Jinfeng's techniques were swift and unpredictable, dazzling to behold. Just as he steadied himself, another wave of force surged toward him. Alarmed, he leapt into the air to evade.
From the sidelines, the gathered martial artists watched in astonishment. Master Liaoyin called out, "What remarkable skill! You have truly opened this old monk's eyes!"Chen Jinfeng retorted angrily, "Mad monk! You are the demon! If you do not apologize today, you will die here!"
Her assault did not relent. She lunged forward, unleashing "Jade Hand Claw," her strikes lightning-fast—grabbing shoulders, locking wrists with terrifying speed. But Master Liaoyin was no ordinary fighter. "Then witness the Shaolin Dragon Claw!" he roared.
Leaping forward, he feinted with his left hand before striking with his right toward a vital point at her collarbone. Yet Chen Jinfeng reacted even faster, blocking and countering. Their claw techniques clashed—Master Liaoyin's Dragon Claw surged like a storm, relentless and ferocious.
The Shaolin Dragon Claw was one of the seventy-two supreme arts of Shaolin—renowned as the greatest grappling technique under heaven. Though it consisted of only thirty-six forms, it was ruthless and direct.
After several more exchanges, Chen Jinfeng suddenly struck his shoulder with a loud smack. Though not a fatal blow, it forced Master Liaoyin back several steps. Yet she halted, choosing not to press the advantage. She could have killed him with a single strike, but thought, "To strike someone at a disadvantage is dishonorable."
She said aloud, "Master, forgive my bluntness—you are no match for me in your injured state. If you apologize before all present to the Western Sacred Sect, this matter can end here."
Though in great pain, Master Liaoyin replied, "To die today for the Buddhist path—though dead, I live on!"
Chen Jinfeng hesitated. "He is, after all, a virtuous monk. If I kill him, I will make an enemy of Shaolin…" Unsure, she glanced toward the senior monk, Benguang.
Benguang stepped forward and said, "Grandmaster, since the Western Sacred Sect shares a similar mission of benefiting the world, its teachings are not so different from ours. We are all followers of the Buddha—why fight to the death? A simple apology would resolve everything."
His words seemed reasonable and well-intentioned. But Master Liaoyin's eyes blazed with anger.
"Benguang!" he snapped. "You are a monk—yet you fail to defend the dignity of Buddhism! This woman deceives the ignorant in Buddha's name—she is no true follower, but a fraud of the demonic path!"
After a pause, he sighed. "Perhaps you speak against your conscience for the safety of Shaolin. I am old. Today, I face death without regret. Say no more."
His words shocked everyone present. Many thought, "Though both are from Shaolin, Master Liaoyin possesses far greater integrity than Benguang." Benguang, ashamed and shaken, withdrew silently.
Master Liaoyin had transcended fear of life and death. To him, honor outweighed survival.
Watching him, Chen Jinfeng grew increasingly angry. "Mad monk! I have shown restraint time and again, yet you persist. There is no other way—you shall meet the Buddha today!"
Master Liaoyin stood serene, his expression calm. "All must die. To die for the righteous path is no cause for fear. A worthy death—how joyous!"
With no choice left, Chen Jinfeng addressed the Shaolin monks: "If he dies in combat, do not blame me!"
"Enough talk!" Master Liaoyin shouted. "Let us finish this!"
He leapt forward, unleashing the Prajna Palm. Chen Jinfeng responded with full force. In an instant, they exchanged over twenty moves. But Master Liaoyin's injuries had taken their toll—his strength was failing.
"Die!" Chen Jinfeng cried.
Closing in, her palm strikes flashed like lightning. Two heavy blows landed—one to his abdomen, one to his chest. Master Liaoyin was sent flying, crashing to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth.
Struggling to rise, he sat cross-legged, hands pressed together, his expression solemn and peaceful. Closing his eyes, he softly chanted:
"I bow to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss,Guide of all sentient beings.I vow to be reborn there—May your compassion receive me…"
His voice suddenly ceased.
Master Liaoyin had passed away—departing for the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.