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Ning Que took the iron bow and pulled it naturally with a peaceful expression, like picking up chopsticks during mealtime. However, as he pulled the iron bow and aimed at the old man next to the stone table, under the green tree with the dark and cold arrow, the quiet mountain was suddenly enveloped by a strong killing intent.

Looking at this, the yellow-clothed old monk turned pale. He was not afraid, but he was so angry and confused that his clothes started to tremble.

The old monk certainly knew Ning Que’s Primordial Thirteen Arrows which were famous in the cultivation realm. Once the powerful and perfect Prince Long Qing was ruined like a specter by one shot.

As a reclusive monk at the Lanke Temple, he never expected that Ning Que would kill him when he just attempted to stop him to follow the rules of Tile Mountain.

What made the old monk angrier and more confused was, given Ning Que’s peaceful expression, if he tried to stop him, he would shoot him for real. How dared he!

The cultivators saw all of these since they were respectfully seeing the black horse carriages off. They were all shocked beyond words and could not understand why Ning Que had reacted like this.

Everyone, who would like to see Master Qishan, had to follow the rules of Lanke Temple, including the Divine Lord Lotus. No exceptions. Even if he was the Headmaster’s core disciple, who considered the tests as humiliations and would like to break through, Ning Que should not kill anybody.

Some elderly cultivators suddenly were reminded of Mr. Ke and his wonderful days in the world. They realized that Ning Que was just like Mr. Ke, who came from the Academy. They were too scared to have a glance at the black horse carriage.

The sharp iron arrow reflected cold lights without any tremors, as if all the light was concentrated on the head of ​​the arrow, which indicated this iron arrow did not move at all and the hand holding it was uncommonly steady. Everything was telling people that the man with the bow was extremely cold-blooded.

The yellow-clothed old monk stared at the iron arrow and realized he was going to be killed, since he was too old and the arrow was too close to avoid it. Fear showed up on his face, then it turned into anger, and then pain. In the end, it turned into peace and determination.

"He is indeed a man from the Academy."

The yellow-clothed old monk looked at Ning Que and said indifferently, "You are as bossy as Ke Haoran. However, I will follow the rules anyway, because the world needs rules. Men like you and Ke Haoran, who don’t want to behave, can kill me but never subdue me."

"I don’t know what painful memories Youngest Uncle had given to you in the old days. As a disciple of the Academy, I must tell you that the Youngest Uncle was never an overbearing and cold-blooded person."

Ning Que looked at the yellow-clothed old monk and continued, "But when men like us meet men like you, either of us has to step back. Like now, I need you to back down, master."

The monk said in a cold voice, "Why are we the ones who should step back?"

Ning Que replied, "Before answering this question, I think we must figure out why you have to set these rules for people, and why others have to obey them. In fact, you must be aware that rules are made by the strong to restrict and exploit the weak. What I admire the most about Youngest Uncle is that he had become a strong man who could ignore all rules, but he never wanted to set rules for others."

The yellow-clothed old monk suddenly burst into laughter. Looking at Ning Que, he shouted, "How can there be anyone in the world able to ignore all rules? Ke Haoran’s death is a warning to you!"

Upon hearing that, Ning Que just slowly frowned without changing his expression.

The Academy’s disciples at the back of the mountain were the ones who respected the Headmaster the most. However, the one they always admired the most was the Youngest Uncle who once traveled the world on a little black donkey.

If they heard someone say something bad about the Headmaster, they would smile and ignore him. In their minds, the Headmaster was a man who could be teased. Besides, he was alive. If he was really pissed off, he could destroy the one offending.

However, if anyone dared to disrespect the Youngest Uncle, they might put up a desperate fight, because the black donkey was dead, so was the Youngest Uncle who could never again speak for himself.

Ning Que was the most professional killer. However, due to Sangsang’s illness, after entering the Tile Mountain, he had been constraining himself to not kill.

At this moment, he did not want to endure anymore. He tightened the bowstring with his fingers, buzzing and indicating that if the arrow was shot, someone must be killed.

"I didn’t feel as if anyone was trying to warn me."

He looked at the yellow-clothed old monk and said, "But I am warning you this time. If you stop me when my carriage passes the bridge, I will kill you."

If he said who was going to die, the person would die.

Looking at his quiet and calm face, no one would doubt his determination and abilities.

The expert of the Sword Garret, Cheng Ziqing sighed in his mind when he saw this. He stepped forward and was going to stop Ning Que.

However, he stopped after only taking one step, because he found that even he could not break through Ning Que’s arrow intent.

The black horse carriage slowly moved towards the bridge.

The yellow-clothed old monk stood up, calm and decided. He was ready to sacrifice himself.

Who could stop this?

...

...

At this moment, a clear ringing suddenly sounded on the mountain road.

The bell was loud and clear, with softness and mercy.

Hearing the bell, several kingfishers flew out of the bamboo grove and landed on the mountain road, leaping towards the bell sounds, as if the devout followers worshipped the mountain.

An old voice bitterly screamed. An elderly woman uncoordinatedly broke the peace on the mountain and froze the leaping birds.

"Ning Que, you’re still as cold-blooded and overbearing as usual. Do all the Tangs act in this way? Do you forget that this is the Lanke Temple? Do you really think no cultivator dares to challenge the authority of the Academy?"

A moment later, another powerful voice sounded on the mountain path. It sounded like the bell of an ancient temple as well as the gentle singing of Buddha, which cheered the birds up once again.

"Even if you are from the Academy, how dare you kill in the Buddhist Heartland?"