The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 278

Xuanjizi had spent years wandering the mortal world, cultivating his Dao amid the ever-churning tides of human affairs. He had met all manner of people, witnessed countless strange phenomena, and when it came to tempering one’s mind and spirit, few in this world could rival him. Over time, he had honed an unshakable equanimity—rarely did anything ruffle his composure.

Yet today, Jiang Fei’s “no more than fifty yuan for a fortune-telling” remark had managed to crack that calm.

What was this youngster implying? Did he truly take the eighth-generation heir of the Tianji Sect for some two-bit charlatan hustling for meals? Did he think this was about swindling pocket change?

And even if Jiang Fei suspected fraud—fifty yuan? These days, even the lowliest street fortune-tellers wouldn’t settle for such paltry sums. They’d starve!

…Wait.

Xuanjizi mentally shook himself. Why am I even thinking like a scammer? This brat had him so agitated he’d nearly lost his Daoist detachment.

It was absurd.

Hadn’t he just told Jiang Fei he’d witnessed his duel with Miyamoto Kazuma? How could the boy still dismiss him as a fraud?

Fortunately, Xuanjizi’s cultivation ran deep enough to swallow the insult. A lesser practitioner might’ve erupted on the spot.

…..

Jiang Fei set his wallet aside, eyeing the speechless priest. “Well? Yes or no? I’m broke—and no, my bank account’s empty too, so don’t get any ideas.”

Xuanjizi silently recited the Dao De Jing to suppress the urge to slap this impertinent youth into the next province. “This humble Daoist wanders the earthly realm, but not in pursuit of wealth or power. To me, gold is as worthless as dung. I require no payment for divination.”

Jiang Fei’s lips curled. “You’d do it for free even if your predictions were accurate?”

“Money is like dirt”? What a joke. Jiang Fei might’ve been many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them.

Money wasn’t everything—but try living without it. Even saints needed funds to eat, sleep, and keep their lovers in silk. These days, even Shaolin Temple had gone corporate.

Free fortune-telling? Yeah, right.

“Even if accurate—no fee,” Xuanjizi stated firmly, then narrowed his eyes. “Though your fate is… unusual. A chaotic blend of yin and yang, yet brimming with unstoppable momentum. Frankly, I’ve never seen such a paradoxical destiny. I can only attempt to unravel it.”

Chaotic yin-yang?

Was this priest subtly calling him effeminate? Jiang Fei’s eyebrow twitched.

“If you’re not charging, why bother?” he challenged. “Nothing’s free in this world.”

Xuanjizi smiled. “Skeptical, aren’t we? For us cultivators, divination is about karmic connection. You and I are fated to meet today.”

“You stalked me here. That’s ‘fate’?”

“All encounters are predestined.”

Jiang Fei massaged his temples. This guy could sell snow to a yeti.

“Let’s cut the mystical crap,” he snapped. “Speak plainly.”

Xuanjizi blinked. The phrase “speak plainly”  clearly hadn’t made it into his archaic lexicon.

“I mean drop the fate and destiny nonsense. Give me concrete facts.”

“Ah.” The priest chuckled. “So you reject predestination? A staunch materialist, then?”

“Damn right,” Jiang Fei scoffed. “I grew up under the red flag, a proud Communist Youth League member. Dialectical materialism runs in my veins. Fate? Karma? Fairy tales for the gullible.”

Xuanjizi’s gaze sharpened. “If so… how do you explain the miracle that transformed you six months ago? An ordinary man one day, a peerless martial artist the next?”

Six months ago?

Jiang Fei’s blood ran cold. That was when he’d acquired the game character system—his most guarded secret.

“You’ve investigated me,” he hissed, murderous intent flaring. This wasn’t just curiosity; it was a threat. Like someone spotting his winning lottery ticket and lunging to steal it.

Xuanjizi remained unperturbed. “I deduced it. Retrospection and prophecy are Tianji Sect’s arts. As I said—I’m here to read your fate.”

“Prove it,” Jiang Fei demanded, muscles coiled to strike.

The priest sighed. “You defeated Miyamoto, yet remain blind to truths beyond flesh and steel. Very well…”

As Jiang Fei braced for some parlor trick, Xuanjizi’s right hand lifted—slowly, almost lazily—and formed a blade. Then it descended.

Thunk.

A 15cm isosceles triangle of solid teakwood—5cm thick—sheared clean off the table’s edge as if sliced by a laser.

Jiang Fei’s pupils dilated.

He could’ve shattered the table with a punch. Could’ve blasted a hole through it with concentrated inner energy. But this? A casual, frictionless cut? That wasn’t martial arts—it was sorcery.

This guy’s no fraud. He’s the real deal—a master who can manifest sword qi without a blade.

Even with the North Darkness Divine Art, Jiang Fei estimated he’d need to advance to Layer Two before replicating such a feat. Unless…

Does he have a system too?

Xuanjizi smiled benignly at Jiang Fei’s stunned silence. “Now, young friend… shall we discuss your destiny?”