He demonstrated the move himself, his right leg lashing out like a whip. It cut through the air with a whistle before striking the old locust tree in the corner of the courtyard, causing a few withered leaves to rustle to the ground.
Yang An's eyes brightened as he watched. He followed the example and gave it a try. Though his movements were still a bit clumsy, it was a vast improvement over his previous attempt.
Just then, a series of knocks came from the courtyard gate. DONG DONG DONG. The rhythm was urgent, yet tinged with a certain cautiousness.
Yang Jing's eyes flickered. He said to Yang An, "I'll get the door."
He walked to the gate and slid the bolt open. Standing outside was a young servant in a short, gray cloth tunic. The boy was small and thin, with a timid look on his face.
