"That is far from my limit."
Walking out of the Snake Fist Hall, Zhang Fusheng was deep in thought, the last punch weighing two thousand pounds, entirely reliant on employing the Spring Thunder Technique at the 'Minor Achievement' level,
his striking skill could not achieve three times the force in punch power,
but precisely because of that, it was far from being his own limit.
By learning the correct force-exerting techniques and fully activating the Spring Thunder Technique, reaching the Minor Perfection level...
He estimated it could break three thousand pounds, perhaps even higher.
"The Spring Thunder Breathing Technique, not only can it mobilize qi and blood and the thunderous reverberation of muscles and bones, it seems to be able to enhance strength as well."
"No, to be precise, it's the thunderous reverberation of muscles and bones that stimulates the power of the body's 206 bones..."
In his swirling thoughts, Zhang Fusheng slightly furrowed his brow, turned into a small alley, discreetly reaching into his waist to grip a gun.
"I wonder which esteemed elder this might be?" he asked lightly.
A moment later.
"Young man, you have keen perception, your Contemplation Technique is practiced well." A hoarse voice sounded,
and then, an old man who looked like he was about to die, wearing martial attire, slowly emerged from the shadows.
"Who might you be?" Zhang Fusheng slightly bent his waist, ready for a fight, quietly disengaging the gun's safety.
Martial artists before the Fourth Refinement, meaning before refining the 'flesh', cannot withstand bullets—Chen Nuanyu took a bullet that day.
The elderly man coughed slightly, seeming very weary, and said in a low voice:
"I, the old master of the Snake Fist Hall."
"Oh?" Zhang Fusheng squinted, "Did I happen to offend the master just now?"
"Yes and no."
The old man seriously shook his head:
"Young man, what you did just now was akin to challenging the hall, appearing as though you came to the Snake Fist Hall to show off."
"I didn't discuss this with you in the martial hall in front of everyone, because I do not wish to have enmity with you, but according to the rules of the martial hall, I must come to see you."
Zhang Fusheng remained vigilant, speaking with a cold tone:
"And then?"
He slightly furrowed his brow, just now he didn't directly make a move, he really went just to measure strength... Does managing a martial hall mean being this sensitive?
Rules... what rules?
But thinking about it, it seems so; a First-Refined Martial Artist going to someone's gateway to measure strength sounds somewhat unreliable.
The Snake Fist Hall Master coughed violently again, wearily saying:
"Naturally, it is to spar with you, win you with three moves, so that, if you were really here to challenge, when it's spread out in the future, I wouldn't lose face."
Finally, he added:
"Rest assured, it will stop at just touching."
Zhang Fusheng squinted, thought for a moment, and ultimately released the gun.
The White Bone Observation Technique has reached Great Success, reaching the stage of "I should see myself as such", making his mind extremely sensitive,
he can clearly sense at this moment, this old man indeed harbors no great malice.
The most crucial point is, the old man exudes a decaying aura all over, truly on the brink of death... he might not be an adversary.
"I've heard the old master is a Second-Refined Martial Artist?"
The old man was silent for a moment:
"Second Refinement? Now it is... I, the old master, will make the first move. Young man, be careful."
He didn't give Zhang Fusheng any chance to say more, even though he looked like he was about to die, abruptly crossing over ten meters to approach!
Fast.
So fast!
Zhang Fusheng was stunned, his pupils contracted sharply, the old man's fist enlarged in his vision, growing larger,
he couldn't fight and could only follow his instincts, crossing his palms, trying to block the wrinkled fist, but the old man suddenly turned the fist into a palm, changing the strike into a jab,
the four-finger jab pierced through the gap between Zhang Fusheng's blocking hands, directly aiming for his face!
Too fast.
Zhang Fusheng only felt a blur before his eyes, the jab stopped steadily before his nose.
"One move." The old man retracted his hand, coughing: "I'll win two more moves from you."
As he spoke, he made no extra movement, launching a simple straight punch, this time, with no change, striking directly,
but in Zhang Fusheng's eyes, it seemed 'impeccable', impossible to avoid or parry,
his entire vision was firmly captivated by that single fist, unable to shift!
Damn!
"The second move..." The punch hadn't arrived yet, but the words were already out, and while the old man hadn't finished speaking,
the young man, whose spirit was captivated by the fist, suddenly showed anger, his aura plummeted to freezing point, like a dead person!
Dead people don't have spirits, nor can they have their minds captured.
He just lightly dodged the punch.
"Huh?" The old man expressed slight surprise: "Is this almost the Great Success in the White Bone Observation Technique? Young man, you can't be more than twenty-two or three, right?"
"Eighteen." Zhang Fusheng replied coldly, retreating three steps, locking his stare on the old man: "How did you know it was the White Bone Observation Technique?"
The old man chuckled:
"When I saw you at the Snake Fist Hall, I knew at first glance, that aura was too strong."
He suddenly became solemn, with a touch of sigh:
"Eighteen, almost Great Success in the White Bone Observation Technique... Hong Tianbao has taken another good disciple, no wonder you came to challenge, so how did he find me?"
Zhang Fusheng paused, suddenly realizing,
this old man and Hall Master Hong know each other, seemingly opposing figures, at this moment there must be a misunderstanding... wait.
Hall Master Hong is a figure beyond the Twelve Refinements, a legitimate Martial Arts Master, can a Second-Refined Martial Artist be his opponent?
As Zhang Fusheng quickly calculated, the old man launched another floating palm.
The aged palm was like a wind sweeping through a thousand peaks, combining gentleness and fierceness, also bearing an inescapable element, another 'unavoidable' move!
The punch earlier, and now this palm, both seemed related to 'spirit'?
Contemplation Technique?
Zhang Fusheng recalled what the earnest Niu Dali said in the Contemplation class.
Contemplation Technique is the most fundamental thing, yet it is also the most important, far more crucial than tempering the body.
Thoughts swirled, lightning fast.
"Hah!!" He resonantly shouted, stirring internal muscle and bone reverberation, barely escaping as a thunderous half-shout echoed in the alley, shattering the old man's hand and finger stance of 'inescapable', 'unavoidable' essence!
Surprise flashed on the old man's face.
Zhang Fusheng sidestepped, dodging, attempting to counterattack.
He used full force.
He practiced the Contemplation Technique, seeing himself as white bones, the bones giving rise to muscle and light, and under his skin, faint light indeed emanated!
The Snake Fist Hall Master was truly startled, exclaiming in shock:
"Great Success in White Bone Observation! Damn Hong Tianbao's luck!"
All over, 206 bones emitted a faint glow, Zhang Fusheng reignited the muscle and bone reverberation, staying unspoken, building up within, weaving until forming a real spring thunder sound,
afterwards.
Punching.
The spring thunder sound brewing internally surged through three thousand pores along his fist, like a punch launching a bolt of thunder.
'Boom! Crack!'
The thunder sound resonated within the alley.
"Spring Thunder Technique? How come the Spring Thunder Technique holds such profound mystery??" The old man seemed incredibly familiar with the Hongji Martial Arts Dojo's techniques, yelling without slacking.
He angrily cursed, 'Stepped in luck Hong Tianbao,' while clasping a sign with both hands, then stamping feet, pulling forward, issuing a 'strike!' from his lips,
even exhaling a thunderous sound!
The two thunder sounds clashed.
The old man advanced, slapping Zhang Fusheng's punch aside, first pointing a finger at his brow, then chopping a palm at his neck.
All stopped short.
Cold sweat surfaced densely on Zhang Fusheng's back, those two moves, he genuinely didn't know how to evade or block.
If the strikes landed...
his life would surely be over.
"I have won three moves." The old man retreated, even though he won, he didn't show a trace of joy, his face was like having tasted poop.
"Why?" he shouted angrily, staring at Zhang Fusheng for a long while, making his hair stand on end.
After a long time.
"Damn Hong Tianbao!" The old man cursed again, turning sharply to leave, not dragging his feet at all.
As if he never wanted to see Zhang Fusheng again.
He left, and faintly could still be heard were words like 'lucky bastard', 'why,' and 'unfair heavens' resonating,
his curses intertwining with the alarms of cars outside the alley, startled by the thunder sound.
Zhang Fusheng wiped his sweat.
"Monster... old monster!" he declared confidently.
The old man leaving the alley also let out a sigh.
"Monster... little monster!"
"Damn you Hong Tianbao!"