At those words, Jiang Haoyang's delight nearly spilled across his face. He hurriedly bowed deeply again, his voice trembling with uncontainable excitement. "Thank you, Senior Brother Yang! Then... I'll be troubling you quite often from now on!"
"It's fine. From now on, you don't need to treat yourself as my pupil when you're with me. I'm only your senior brother." With that, Yang Jing gestured for him to go practice on his own.
Jiang Haoyang nodded repeatedly and offered another "Thank you, Senior Brother" before walking away with a broad grin, his steps light and his spirits clearly soaring.
Yang Jing smiled as he watched him leave, then turned and headed toward the broadest open space in the center of the front courtyard.
Once there, he lowered his hips and settled into a horse stance again, slowly unfolding the movements of the Mountain Collapse Fist. His internal energy circulated with increasing fluidity, and his punches carried a dense, weighty force, utterly unlike the casual ease he had shown while instructing Jiang Haoyang.
Just then, with a clang, someone shoved open the Martial Arts Hall's half-closed gates. An outer disciple rushed in with a grave expression, stumbling and nearly tripping over the threshold.
His face was filled with alarm. Before he had even steadied himself, he raised his voice, its pitch distorted by urgency. "Something's happened! Something terrible!"
The cry instantly shattered the atmosphere of training in the front courtyard. Every disciple stopped and turned toward him, their faces full of surprise.
Not far away, Xu Hong was teaching a junior brother to practice his punches. Seeing the disciple so flustered, he immediately frowned and was about to rebuke him for disrupting the order.
But upon hearing the words "something terrible," he swallowed the reprimand on the tip of his tongue.