Sun Ningxiang stood outside the main house, watching her father and Yang Jing emerge from the study, her gaze passing over both their faces.
The gravity in her father's expression had long since vanished, replaced by an unmistakable ease. Even his steps seemed lighter.
They were only inside for a moment. How did he change so much? Full of questions, Sun Ningxiang hurried after them, determined to find out.
"Father, just now..." She had barely spoken when Sun Yong raised a hand to stop her.
Sun Yong turned toward her, his expression solemn, and lowered his voice. "Ningxiang, whatever you see in a moment, keep it to yourself. You must not breathe a word of it to anyone. Understand?"
Sun Ningxiang froze. Seeing that her father was serious and not joking, she nodded, though the puzzlement in her eyes deepened. "I... understand."
She watched blankly as her father led Yang Jing to the open space in the middle of the inner courtyard.
Paved with smooth bluestone slabs, it was where her father usually practiced alone, though lately it had become their sparring ground.
Yet her mind was still occupied by what her father had just said. What did he mean?
What would she see in a moment?
Did it have something to do with Junior Brother Yang Jing?
In the open space at the center of the inner courtyard.
"Ready?" Sun Yong settled into position and addressed Yang Jing.
"Yes, Master." Yang Jing lowered his center of gravity into a firm horse stance and assumed the opening posture of the Mountain Collapse Fist, anticipation flickering in his eyes.
Sun Yong said no more and took his own stance.
With a low shout, his Fist Wind suddenly surged, carrying the distinctive sharpness of transforming strength straight toward Yang Jing's face!
This