Hong Gao couldn't bring himself to move.0

He straightened his back and bent his slightly spread legs. But before his Hundred Paces Divine Fist could be executed, he was stopped. 0

The face of the middle-aged monk was distorted in disbelief, his mouth hanging open.0

His stance, which seemed ready to strike at any moment, was interrupted only when Hui Mian approached him and spoke in a stern voice.0

"Amitabha. There's nothing else for me to tell you other than the idiom, a frog in a well. As someone who considered the Shaolin Temple to be everything, how does it feel to have your narrow-mindedness exposed and become aware of your ignorance of the vast world?"0

"T-this loss isn't because the Shaolin Temple's techniques are lacking! It's because of the shortcomings of this incompetent monk!" Hong Gao belatedly came to his senses and protested.0

"Ahem, it seems this incompetent disciple of mine hasn't come to his senses yet."0

Hui Mian clicked his tongue and scolded Hong Gao sternly.0

"When did this old monk say that the techniques of the Shaolin Temple were inferior to those of Mount Hua?"0

"B-but…"0

"In the first place, there are only differences in types of learning. There is no such thing as superior or inferior learning. Not only have you treated studies of the path other than Buddhist studies as nothing special, but you've even shown a tendency to look down on Temples other than the Shaolin Temple, even though you are a monk just like they are. Is that not the very Moha we...0