All 111 people are fine; it's just that they need to change their pants.

The lama finished speaking and led the way into the courtyard. By this time, Xiang Yuanyuan had already picked up the kitten and stepped aside, but Dorje emerged from the room and stood under the eaves, watching the two men’s sparring match with intense focus.

The two stood their ground. The lama dropped into a half-horse stance, his hands rounded in a circular embrace with his back slightly hunched—a posture reminiscent of wrestling. Du Ruo stood sideways in a bow stance, his hands spread flat, one forward and one back, forming the "Erlang Carrying the Mountain" pose of Baji Quan.

In traditional martial arts, the bow stance is rarely used as an opening, as it is a highly offensive posture; it is only commonly seen in the expansive style of Baji Quan. After setting their stances, neither moved, standing perfectly still.

"Creak..."

The ajar temple gate was pushed open from the outside, the old wooden door emitting a faint groan. This sound acted like a fuse.

"Bang!"

Du Ruo stomped his foot, shattering the solid ground beneath him. With a thunderous thud, he lunged forward. Mid-air, his trailing right hand swung in a semicircle, striking toward the lama’s head—a move known as "The Fierce Tiger Ascends the Mountain" from Baji Quan.

Du Ruo’s strike was swift, with a short wind-up and a rapid release. However, the distance was a bit too great, and the movement required time. The lama, sensing the stomp, immediately leaned to his right, dodging the palm while his left hand turned into a whip-like strike, lashing out at the side of Du Ruo’s ear—a classic example of "striking later but arriving first."

As the lama leaned, Du Ruo shifted his palm in mid-air, striking at the back of the lama’s hand.

"Clack!"

The collision between palm and arm did not sound like a crisp slap, but rather like two wooden sticks striking each other.

The lama’s backhand strike was blocked, but he remained unperturbed. He spun his body, back turned, and swung his right hand in a wide arc, aiming for Du Ruo’s head again. His movements were wide and open, palm-heavy, reminiscent of the long-range power found in Tongbei Quan.

Du Ruo did not attempt to parry. Instead, he pulled his left hand back into an elbow strike, continuing his forward momentum. As he took the lama’s backhand blow, his "Heart-Piercing Elbow" struck the old man square in the center of his back.

"Smack! Thud!"

Du Ruo’s head took the glancing blow of the lama’s backhand, but because of his own forward thrust, the lama’s forearm only grazed him, greatly diminishing the power of the strike.

Du Ruo’s elbow, however, landed solidly. He had held back, mindful of the old man’s eighty years, using only thirty percent of his strength. Yet, as his elbow connected with the lama's back, he felt something strange. It was as if he had struck a smooth, taut ball; there was a surge of internal energy beneath the skin—a sign of reaching a profound level in both internal and external cultivation. Even so, the force of the blow pushed the lama back several steps.

"The young friend is quite respectful to his elders, holding back much of your strength," the lama said with a smile. "However, the 'Iron Crotch Technique' I practice protects more than just the groin. Once mastered, it makes one impervious to cold, heat, blades, and spears. It is a decent defensive art."

The lama smiled, knowing Du Ruo had pulled his punch. He had only dared to attack without defending because he relied on his defensive cultivation; otherwise, he never would have exposed his vital points to Du Ruo just to test his mettle. It was a sign of both his curiosity and his immense self-confidence.

In that brief exchange, both had been testing the waters, neither revealing their true trump cards.

But while the two appeared nonchalant, the onlookers outside the temple were dumbfounded. The one who had pushed the door open was Qiangzi, accompanied by Wu Jing and the injured celebrity, who had come to thank Du Ruo. As a martial arts star, Wu Jing recognized Du Ruo’s prowess and had hoped to build a connection. Finding no response to their messages, they had driven to the pastoral area and stopped at the temple upon seeing the vehicles, never expecting to witness such an explosive scene.

"In that case, Master, please be careful," Du Ruo said.

He reset his stance, this time using the "San Ti" posture with the Dragon Palm. The initial contact had shown him how difficult his opponent was—agile, versatile, and bolstered by defensive arts. Engaging in a direct clash of force would be a disadvantage, and the Dragon Palm offered the best flexibility to adapt to any situation.

"Please," the lama said, maintaining his stance. Though he said the word politely, his expression was far from relaxed; he had become even more vigilant.

"Hah!"

Du Ruo initiated the attack again. Seeing the lama’s proficiency in defensive counters, he decided to take the lead, as Xingyi Quan excelled at responding to various shifts.

He transformed his palm into a tiger-style cannon punch, striking directly at the lama’s solar plexus. This was a feint to gauge the lama’s reaction. If the lama tried to endure it, Du Ruo would switch his fist to fingers, using the "Copper Man Technique" to pierce the solar plexus and seize the pulse, breaking the lama’s defensive cultivation.

"Bang!"

The lama blocked with a backhand, swatting Du Ruo’s arm, while his other hand clawed toward Du Ruo’s head, his upper body pressing forward in a strange, contorted movement.

The claw toward his head resembled the "Green Dragon Probing Claws" from grappling, while the pressing of his body was reminiscent of wrestling. It was a strange style, unfamiliar to Du Ruo, but he recognized the danger. If he were caught and the lama applied his full weight, he could have his neck snapped in an instant.

When facing such grappling arts—especially against someone with defensive cultivation—the opponent was impervious to both soft and hard attacks, relying on their cultivation to endure strikes while going for the kill.

Since the lama sought to play to his strengths (defense) and avoid his weaknesses (raw power), Du Ruo adopted the same strategy: using his own strengths (power and stamina) to counter the lama with grappling of his own.

Du Ruo used the "Great Entangling Silk" technique of Baji, binding his arm with the lama’s. When two grappling experts clash, the victory goes to whoever possesses greater strength.

While grappling, Du Ruo’s fingers remained active, pressing into various acupoints, while his right hand transformed into an eagle claw, reaching for the lama’s throat. The lama, forced to react, used his own grappling techniques to bind Du Ruo’s right arm, neutralizing the strike.

Arms entangled, neither could gain the upper hand. But Du Ruo began to exert force to counter-grapple. His strength was clearly superior; given a moment longer, he would be able to overpower the lama. The battle shifted to the feet. In such close quarters, there was no room for fancy legwork—only toe kicks and knee strikes—but Du Ruo was at a disadvantage. He had to protect his groin, while the lama did not. Thanks to the "Iron Crotch Technique," the lama attacked without fear, steadily pushing Du Ruo back.

A moment ago, they were masters posturing; the next, they were locked in a wrestling match, indistinguishable in their struggle. Du Ruo kicked at the lama’s leg points to no avail, while the lama’s strikes repeatedly grazed Du Ruo’s groin, forcing him to retreat step by step.

"Thud!"

Du Ruo retreated until his back hit a stone pillar of the main temple gate. He had nowhere left to go.

"Opportunity!"

Both men realized this simultaneously and struck without hesitation.

"Hum!"

The lama opened his mouth, and a Buddhist mantra erupted. The massive sound made Du Ruo’s scalp tingle, and he instinctively wanted to let go, but his mind immediately cleared as his inner "Spirit" flowed like water, instantly dispelling the discomfort.

Du Ruo tilted his head, slammed his shoulder into the lama’s chest using the "Bear Shoulder Strike" of Xingyi, channeling the force from his back to maximize the impact.

"Bang!"

The immense force sent the lama reeling, but because their arms were still locked, the lama stopped after only half a step. Just as the lama tried to stabilize, Du Ruo vibrated his waist, sending a Taiji force through his arms to shake the lama’s fingers off his shoulders.

Du Ruo’s arms snapped straight, his hands turning into claws, and he began rapidly striking the lama’s shoulder points. With every point he struck, he injected a trace of his internal energy. Though the lama’s cultivation was profound, Du Ruo’s energy clung to the surface of the points.

Soon, Du Ruo had finished pressing the points from shoulder to wrist. He then moved his hands to the lama’s Ren meridian, pressing the vital points in quick succession.

The lama tried to intervene, channeling energy to his arm to strike Du Ruo, but as he exerted force, his internal "Qi"—which usually flowed freely—shattered like a broken balloon. It dissipated from his acupoints, leaving him unable to gather any strength.

The lama was horrified, realizing why Du Ruo had shaken his arms earlier. He had been targeting his points from the very beginning. As he felt Du Ruo’s fingers continuing to strike, the lama tried to push off the ground to retreat.

But as he channeled energy to his legs, they felt like lead. Du Ruo’s earlier kicks to his leg points had not been in vain.

"It’s over..."

The lama’s face turned ashen. Du Ruo had finished his sequence, and the lama could see the muscles on Du Ruo’s body shifting—the sign of force rising from the feet, the prelude to a lethal Xingyi strike.

The lama realized his internal energy was completely dissipated. If it were Du Ruo, even without energy, his sheer physical strength would be enough to deliver a devastating blow. But the lama was eighty years old; without his energy, he felt a sudden wave of weakness and collapsed to the ground.

"Hah!"

Du Ruo had been building his force, his body standing tall like a wild horse. Seeing the lama fall, a smile appeared on his face. At the peak of his power, he let out a shout and slammed his fists into the empty space in front of him—the Horse Form, "Collapse Punch."

Directly in front of Du Ruo stood the temple gate. As the lama fell, the three people outside were directly in the path of that punch. To them, Du Ruo looked like a wild stallion rearing up, about to trample them. They all shivered as if electrocuted, instinctively stepping back.

"Bang!"

Du Ruo’s fists struck empty air, but the accumulated force exploded outward, creating a gust of wind that the three men seven or eight meters away could clearly feel. It was clear that had that strike landed, even with the lama’s cultivation, his internal organs would have been pulverized.

"Haha! Hahaha! Refreshing! Truly refreshing! Oh... Master, are you alright?"

Du Ruo stood there laughing, feeling a sense of absolute clarity. After laughing, he remembered the fallen lama and hurried to help him up.

"I am fine, though I’m afraid I’ve been scared enough to need a change of trousers," the lama replied with a bitter smile, rising to his feet. He carefully circulated his energy, feeling the familiar sense of security return as his internal strength enveloped his body once more. He let out a long sigh of relief.

"What technique was that, young friend? Tibetan martial arts also have pulse-seizing methods, but none with such devastating efficacy as what you just displayed."

The lama asked with curiosity. The feeling of being completely drained of energy was something he struggled to remain calm about, even after years of Buddhist practice. Yet, the experience of losing everything in an instant had also been a valuable lesson.

"That is the Fujian Copper Man Technique. It’s a method of grappling and acupoint striking to break pulses, specifically designed to counter defensive arts," Du Ruo said with a smile. It was indeed a useful technique, though he had only used a fraction of its potential since it was just a sparring match.

"Hmm, a bountiful harvest indeed. I see those guests outside are likely looking for you, and the hour is late. I shall not keep you any longer," the lama said.

He glanced at the three people outside the temple, who were still reeling from Du Ruo’s punch. He nodded at Du Ruo and prepared to see them off.

"Master, farewell."

Du Ruo cupped his fists, taking a long look at the lama and Dorje behind him. Some people are mere passersby; once they part, it is unlikely they will ever meet again.

The lama saw Du Ruo out to the gate. Only after the vehicles drove away toward the pasture did he close the temple doors once more.

As Li Qiyao drove, Du Ruo closed his eyes, reflecting on the match.

The exchange was brief, but he had learned much. First, the techniques: the opponent relied heavily on palm strikes and grappling, mixed with the unique wrestling style of the grasslands. Second, the cultivation: a blend of internal and external arts, with iron-hard fingers and potent energy. Finally, the "Spirit": that roar was a perfect fusion of sound and intent; a simple shout could not have made Du Ruo want to let go.

Fortunately, Du Ruo’s foundation was solid, and his practice of the Hunyuan Yiqi Gong, which harmonized his essence, energy, and spirit, had allowed him to withstand the roar.