A Claw Strike with Forty Years of Skill

The sun rose above the horizon like a shy young maiden, coyly peeking out from behind it.

A group of teenagers let out cries of "Hah!" and "Ho!" as they practiced martial arts beneath the dawn.

Among them, an adult who stood a head taller than the others imitated their morning exercises, following along with the motions.

Although Chen Cheng's posture was still far from standard, a closer look revealed that every punch and palm strike he threw was so powerful that it stirred the air into spiraling currents.

When the morning lesson ended, all the students ran toward the cafeteria.

Ying Chou, who had led the students through their morning exercises, came over to Chen Cheng.

"Senior."

Chen Cheng waved his hand. "I'm no senior now. I'm just like them. I'm your student too."

Chen Cheng then performed another set of the Eagle Claw Sect's morning boxing forms before saying to Ying Chou, "Take a look and see where I still need to improve. Don't hold back—just guide me directly."

To be honest, if his father hadn't told him that Chen Cheng was a Grandmaster-level expert, he really would have taken Chen Cheng for a complete novice who had never come into contact with Ancient Martial Arts.

Although the boxing forms practiced during morning lessons differed from sect to sect, they were all basic forms from the Fist Canon, serving much the same purpose as stretching before exercise.

Anyone who had come into contact with Ancient Martial Arts and achieved even a certain level of accomplishment could not possibly perform these basic forms incorrectly.

Yet after watching Chen Cheng complete the set, Ying Chou could point out several obvious mistakes alone, never mind the other issues, such as the finer details of exerting force.

Ying Chou did not hold