Returning to the Extreme Fist Sect, martial arts training ground.
The instructor for today's class has changed, named Zhou Yang.
Like Chen Muju, he is also an inner disciple, around twenty-two or three years old, with a buzz cut, tall and strong, with eyes as fierce as a hawk.
Compared to the handsome and friendly Chen Muju, Zhou Yang is hot-tempered and prone to violent outbursts, making everyone quite afraid of him.
"Your punch is like a woman's, haven't you eaten?"
"Do you need me to teach you how to hold your horse stance? How does Chen Muju teach, is he sleeping all the time?"
"Damn it, how did a loser like you get in here?"
After teaching for a while, Zhou Yang lost his patience, "Alright, stop practicing, come over and spar. The loser stands post until tomorrow morning and doesn't eat."
Upon hearing this, everyone exchanged glances, not daring to speak up.
Lou Yi was also speechless.
