Tang Yuan was not discouraged when his strike failed, nor was he swayed by Zhang Xiangyi's words.
After a brief adjustment, he attacked Zhang Xiangyi again.
It was still the Double Shadow Dragon Fist. Its might had not changed much, but its angle tilted slightly as the attack shifted from left-to-right.
Zhang Xiangyi smiled disdainfully. He casually raised his right hand and, just as before, gave a jolt with his elbow, blasting the incoming fist force apart on the spot.
Tang Yuan remained unmoved. His figure merely shifted slightly in the direction of Zhang Xiangyi's raised right arm, and his next punch switched to a right-to-left attack.
"Useless. Is that all the trifling strength you've got?"
Zhang Xiangyi raised his hand again to dissolve the attack. Somewhat impatiently, he reminded Tang Yuan, wanting him to show some new tricks.
After throwing several more probing punches from left and right, Tang Yuan shouted, "Then Uncle Zhang, have a taste of my Splitting Flame Palm!"
As his words fell, the dragon-shadow-wreathed fist force suddenly surged with blazing flames. The elongated dragon-shaped fist force instantly condensed into a fiery palm wave no larger than a dragon's head.
Zhang Xiangyi's gaze grew more serious. Facing the dragon-headed fiery palm wave rushing straight at him, he tensed his body. Wrinkles like elephant hide immediately emerged across his skin, making it appear exceptionally tough.
The fierce flaming palm strike landed on his raised right arm. Though it instantly burned the clothing on his arm to ash, it did not inflict the slightest damage upon that wrinkled dark skin. The hardness suggested by those wrinkles was not merely visual—it was genuinely, outrageously hard.
With a jolt from Zhang Xiangyi's raised right arm, the spiritual energy before him seemed to be forcibly torn apart into a separating wall.