"I lost!"
High in the sky, Liang Long was sent flying a thousand zhang away before he barely managed to steady himself.
In the end, he spoke with some helplessness.
Although he had not suffered any serious injuries on the surface, with most of the force behind Zhang Qingyuan's palm strike having been blocked by his Natal Magic Treasure, his aura was still unsettled.
He had lost by one move.
Liang Long could only helplessly concede defeat.
This was not a life-and-death battle, but a sparring match between friends, where they stopped at the right moment.
Nor was he someone who could not let things go.
Instead, he openly admitted it.
Yet amid his somewhat low spirits, the way he looked at Zhang Qingyuan also carried a trace of admiration.
To possess such strength at such a realm at this age truly left Liang Long deeply shaken.
He was no mediocrity either.
By nature combative, he was a notch stronger than ordinary cultivators of the same level.
But even so,
he had still lost,
lost to this young junior!
In that instant,
Liang Long even felt as though the back waves of the Yangtze River were crashing over the front waves, leaving the front waves dead upon the beach.
There was no Yangtze River in this world,
but the principle was clearly the same.
"Brother Liang, you let me win!"
Zhang Qingyuan cupped his hands toward Liang Long in salute. Though there was some lightness on his face, he showed no great pride.
This instead made Liang Long and Peng Li, who stood nearby, think even more highly of him.
To achieve such accomplishments and strength at such a young age while still preserving one's temperament—such a young junior clearly had boundless prospects ahead!
"What do you mean, I let