Come?
Shui Hetong saw that Chen Yi had not drawn the long spear from his sleeve, and a faint smile appeared on his handsome face.
"'Dragon Tiger'... the martial world says your spear and fist are both peerless, though there is an order to it—the Spear Dao first, the Fist Dao second. Are you truly going to face me with your fists?"
Chen Yi looked at him noncommittally. "Brother Shui is known as the one whose fists quell a thousand miles of mountains and rivers. You are an expert in using fists."
"Such an opportunity is rare. Naturally, I must ask for your guidance."
Shui Hetong smiled and shook his head. "Between mastery and perfection lies the distance between heaven and earth, like the sun and moon vying for brilliance. You will not learn anything."
But when he saw that Chen Yi still had no intention of using the Spear Dao, Shui Hetong went along with it.
"So be it."
"Since Brother Liu Wu wishes to match fist against fist, Shui will naturally not spoil your interest."
The moment his words fell.
Shui Hetong changed.
The robes on his slender frame tightened, and the aura within him gathered in an exceedingly restrained manner.
Like a gray dragon lurking in an abyss—contained yet taut, ready to choose its prey and devour it.
The rain fell in a dense curtain, and the night wind whispered.
Yet within Puyin Temple, not a single drop of rain fell, nor did a trace of wind pass through.
It had become a forbidden ground.
Amid the dim darkness, Shui Hetong's eyes gleamed as a slight smile appeared on his handsome face.
"Come."
Chen Yi sized him up, the corner of his mouth curling. "Brother Shui, you are taking this seriously?"
"When two chess masters meet, when