Four senior disciples surrounded Lu Rou in a relentless wheel formation, taking turns attacking him one after another. Relying on their great size and brute strength, they unleashed powerful palm strikes and heavy punches that roared through the air. For a moment, Lu Rou found himself trapped in the center of the encirclement. Suddenly, he sprang high into the air with astonishing speed.
Zashi Dorje shouted angrily, "You filthy beggar! Don't run!"
"Who's running?" Lu Rou shot back.
In midair, he spun his body and lashed out with both feet toward Zashi Dorje and Danba Duozi. Caught off guard by the flying kick, both men hurriedly raised their palms to block.
Bang! Bang!
The tremendous force instantly drove them back four or five steps before they lost their balance and crashed to the ground.
Seizing the opportunity, Zashi Dele charged forward with a powerful punch. At that very instant, the eldest disciple, Tsering Nima, struck with a lightning-fast claw.
Rip!
He tore open the front of Lu Rou's ragged shirt.
"My clothes!" Lu Rou cried. "You wild monk! Why did you tear my shirt?"
He leapt backward and looked mournfully at his already tattered garment.
"It may be full of holes," he muttered regretfully, "but I still liked the way it looked. And now you've ruined it!"
It was a perfect example of cherishing even the humblest of possessions.
Tsering Nima burst into laughter, his face full of contempt.
"I wouldn't take that rag even if you gave it to me! You poor beggar! If you'd been just a little slower, it wouldn't have been your shirt that got torn—it would have been your body!"
Although Lu Rou's clothing was little more than rags, he treasured it dearly.
His eyes blazed with anger.
"You ruined my clothes," he growled. "Then I'll ruin yours!"
With that, he lunged straight at Tsering Nima. Although Zashi Dele and the other two disciples rushed in to help, Lu Rou ignored them completely. His beloved shirt had been torn, and all of his fury was directed at Tsering Nima.
He thrust forward with a Willow Leaf Palm.
Tsering Nima reached out to block.
But in the blink of an eye, the palm transformed into a Tiger Claw. His five fingers spread apart, the thumb arched wide, while the first two finger joints curled inward.
Rip!
Tsering Nima's robe was torn open across the abdomen.
Zashi Dele intercepted Lu Rou's second claw strike. Instantly, Lu Rou switched to Sword Fingers, stabbing forward with his index and middle fingers.
Tsering Nima twisted aside just in time, but the attack still pierced two neat holes through the side of his robe.
Tsering Wangdui hurried in to rescue him.
Lu Rou answered with a Four-Level Palm. A fierce blast of force erupted, and Wangdui barely managed to withstand it before retreating in haste.
Without giving them time to recover, Lu Rou raised his left hand and struck again with his right.
Tsering Nima blocked instinctively.
But the palm suddenly transformed into Golden Scissor Fingers. His index and middle fingers shot apart like the blades of a pair of scissors, gliding smoothly through the air.
Snip!
Another corner of Tsering Nima's robe was neatly sliced away.
Still unable to forget the destruction of his treasured shirt, Lu Rou pursued Tsering Nima relentlessly.
His techniques changed without warning—palms became claws, claws became fingers.
Eagle Claw.
Tiger Claw.
Praying Mantis Claw.
Diamond Finger.
Golden Scissor Fingers.
Sword Fingers.
One technique after another flowed seamlessly together.
The repeated sounds of cloth tearing echoed through the battlefield.
Within moments, Tsering Nima's kasaya had been shredded into more than a dozen ragged holes. His once dignified monk's robe now looked no better than a beggar's tattered clothing.
Only then did Lu Rou stop attacking.
Throwing back his head, he laughed heartily.
"So what if your outfit was better than mine? Right now, yours is even more ragged than mine!"
The Beggars' Sect's Four Elders immediately burst into roaring laughter.
Seeing Tsering Nima's robe hanging in tatters, the spectators could not help laughing as well.
Tsering Nima stood there humiliated beyond words.
The four disciples all shared the same bitter thought:
"If the four of us lose to this fellow today, how can we ever face the martial world again? Not only have we disgraced ourselves—we've disgraced our master as well."
Determined to recover their honor, they resolved to unleash their trump card.
Since they could not defeat Lu Rou with empty-handed martial arts, Tsering Nima's thick eyebrows shot upward as he roared,
"Use the weapons!"
An evil gleam flashed across his face.
Tsering Wangdui had already prepared them.
"Eldest Brother! Second Brother! Catch!"
He tossed a pair of bronze cymbals to Tsering Nima and Zashi Dorje.
In an instant, the two men leaped into the air, arms spread wide like soaring eagles. Holding a cymbal in each hand, they spun gracefully in midair.
The shining cymbals looked like four massive broadswords as they hacked downward from above.
Lu Rou had never expected these lamas to resort to weapons after failing in hand-to-hand combat.
His anger flared.
"Only a villain can deal with another villain," he thought grimly.
Unarmed, Lu Rou could only dodge with all his might.
At the same time, Danba Duozi and Tsering Wangdui joined the fight, each wielding two bronze cymbals.
The four disciples closed in from every direction.
Eight razor-edged cymbals whirled around Lu Rou like gigantic executioner's blades.
They pressed in relentlessly, attacking from point-blank range.
Although Lu Rou possessed extraordinary martial skill, even he found himself overwhelmed for a time. He darted left and right, ducked, twisted, and slipped through the storm of flashing bronze.
Yet such evasive maneuvers could only delay the inevitable.
Slice!
Another corner of his already ragged shirt was cut away.
That was the final straw.
"You bastards!" Lu Rou roared. "What did my clothes ever do to you?"
His "fine attire" was nothing more than a collection of old rags—but to a beggar, those rags were all he owned.
His entire worldly wealth consisted of this patched shirt and the Dog-Beating Staff that never left his side.
Now utterly enraged, he struck back with fists and feet alike.
Ever since drinking the Bear Bone Wine and Tiger Bone Wine, every punch and kick carried terrifying power.
Even a single counterattack was almost impossible for the four monks to withstand.
At last, Lu Rou threw back his head and released a thunderous roar that shook the heavens.
He shot several zhang into the air.
Twisting gracefully in mid-flight, he descended like a hawk diving upon its prey and unleashed a barrage of palm strikes.
Tsering Nima and Zashi Dorje desperately raised their bronze cymbals to block.
Bang! Bang!
Both men were blasted backward and sent flying through the air.
At the same moment, Danba Duozi and Tsering Wangdui hurled their cymbals at Lu Rou.
He spun in midair and swept them aside with a whirlwind kick before instantly closing the distance.
Bang! Bang!
Two more deafening impacts rang out.
The remaining two disciples were hurled backward as well.
All four crashed heavily onto the ground.
Each coughed up a mouthful of blood before losing consciousness.