Drunken Fist Master

Xia Lin tilted his head back and looked at the guy hanging in midair.

From below, he could see that he was a middle-aged man, probably in his forties.

His hair was a complete mess, as if he had been struck by lightning. Several locks even stood straight up in a bizarre fashion, like hedgehog spines.

A few leaves of unknown origin were still tangled in his hair.

His face was covered in grime, and his stubble had clearly gone unshaven for at least a week. His thick beard concealed half his face, making him look like a vagrant.

His skin was dark, and several faint scars crossed his cheeks.

He lay flat on a hemp rope that looked ready to snap at any moment, his body completely relaxed, his breathing steady and deep.

Drool seeped from the corner of his slightly open mouth and dripped down his chin.

Even more ridiculous was how deeply he slept. His entire body did not sway in the slightest, as though that rope were a comfortable bed.

That sense of balance... it had already surpassed what a human should be capable of.

"Master Qi?" Xia Lin called again.

There was no response.

"Master Qi Feng?"

Still no response.

The guy even changed positions and continued sleeping.

This guy...

Xia Lin decided to use [Item Appraisal] to see what exactly was going on.

[Qi Feng] Race: Human Level: Monk (Drunken Fist Master) Lv.14 Status: Deep Asleep Special Abilities: [Drunken Fist Follows the Will] [Drunken Fist Qi] [Wine-Fueled Heroism] [Heaven and Earth in Drunkenness]

Xia Lin was delighted. Though this level was not quite that of a grandmaster, he was undoubtedly still a top-tier expert.

It was normal for an expert like this to have a strange temperament.

He decided to test the