Then, Zhang Beixing rose at three in the morning the next day to continue his fist practice!
There was still no set pattern, no routines, just a pure, heart-driven movement. His fists and feet moved freely; every posture was a scenic view, every move was natural.
This, naturally, caught the attention of the soldiers in the military district. Many saw this small figure tirelessly swinging his fists on the mountaintop.
"Holy shit, what's going on? Am I seeing things, or what? Who gets up this early to go practice punching on a mountain?"
"What are you even talking about? How could anyone be bored enough to... holy crap, you're right! Wow, who is that guy?"
"They say he's a friend of Colonel Huo, a Martial Arts Grandmaster, here for secluded cultivation."
"Man, are all these martial artists this strange? Getting up so early to practice on a mountain."
