The square atop Feather Peak was small, measuring barely a dozen yards on each side.
Its bluestone paving had been kept clean and level, with grass and trees surrounding it. Once the morning mist dispersed, sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering dappled shadows and lending the place an even deeper air of quiet solemnity.
Chief Elder Ouyang Jingxuan stood at the center of the square's far end, his posture straight. Though advanced in years, he possessed the bearing of a deep, still pool and a towering mountain.
Chu Yunhai and Yang Jing stood on either side, their solemn gazes fixed on him. They remained wholly attentive, not daring to relax for an instant, even deliberately softening their breathing for fear of missing a single detail.
Ouyang Jingxuan spoke slowly, his voice calm. "Are you ready?"
Both nodded and answered in unison, "We're ready!"
Ouyang Jingxuan nodded slightly, sweeping his gaze over them. "Watch closely. This martial art is called the Green Mountain Fist. Though it is only a basic fist art of the sect, it contains profound truths of the Martial Path-returning to simplicity and one's true nature."
With that, Ouyang Jingxuan said no more. His aura settled slightly, then he raised his hands, stepped forward, and began demonstrating the Green Mountain Fist.
The fist art was indeed ordinary. Its moves were simple and unadorned, consisting of basic chopping, hacking, blocking, thrusting, and sweeping motions, without intricate combinations or overwhelming grandeur.
Yet in Ouyang Jingxuan's hands, this ordinary basic fist art reached an entirely different realm.
His movements were unhurried, every technique as composed as a leisurely stroll through a courtyard. His sweeping hands carried the steady rhythm of rising and falling mountains, while his planted feet possessed the weight of roots sunk deep into the earth.
The simplest chopping