Dumbfounded

The group moved to the center of the spacious training ground.

Yu Kan stepped forward, cupping his fists: "Master, how about this disciple takes your place and exchanges a few moves with the junior apprentice brother? You can observe and guide from the side?"

Zhou Jingfeng shook his head: "No need. I want to personally feel Chen Yue's energy circulation, his blood and qi strength, and his combat reactions."

Only by testing with his own hands could he know exactly which stage of the Skin Refining Realm Chen Yue was in, and to what extent his bones, tendons, skin, and membranes had been tempered.

Having said this, Zhou Jingfeng walked to the center of the field and stood still, his posture as steady as a mountain.

He beckoned to Chen Yue, his tone gentle yet carrying an undeniable force: "Chen Yue, come. Use your strongest technique, attack me with full force. Hold nothing back, and don't worry about hurting me.

Only if you go all out can I, your master, see your truest state. Remember, this is both an assessment and the beginning of your instruction."

Chen Yue took a deep breath, knowing that his master was personally gauging his foundation—a necessary step before imparting higher martial arts.

He steadied his mind, adjusted his state to its peak, and solemnly cupped his fists toward Zhou Jingfeng in the center of the field: "Disciple obeys. Please guide me, Master!"

With a thought, the inner breath of the Mountain-Climbing Art surged like a torrent, instantly flooding his limbs and bones, while blood and qi faintly churned beneath his skin.

The essence of the Roaming Mountains and Rivers movement technique flowed through his mind. Chen Yue's feet seemed to glide casually, his body trailing an afterimage as he crossed several paces in the blink of an eye, closing to within five feet of Zhou Jingfeng.

Without any flashy opening move, his right fist shot out like a hidden dragon emerging from its lair, twisting and driving from his waist along the shortest, straightest path, aimed directly at Zhou Jingfeng's center.

Where the fist passed, the air seemed to ripple faintly from the pressure.

"Well struck!"

A glint of light flashed in Zhou Jingfeng's eyes. Instead of alarm, delight showed on his face as he let out a crisp, approving shout.

He neither dodged nor evaded, simply raising his right palm casually, fingers slightly spread, and meeting Chen Yue's fist with a light, drifting motion.

"Thump!"

Fist met palm with a low, deep, muffled sound!

Chen Yue felt as though his punch—strong enough to shatter a wooden stake—had struck a quagmire. At the same time, a strange yet resilient counter-shock force came from his master's palm, traveling through his fist and arm, rapidly spreading to his shoulder, back, waist, and entire body.

This counter-force was not violent, yet it was overwhelmingly unstoppable, forcing Chen Yue's upper body to lean back involuntarily, his center of gravity slightly unsteady.

However, Chen Yue's reaction was astonishingly fast. He did not forcibly resist the force, nor did he panic and retreat to dissipate it.

The moment his body leaned back, his waist and hips snapped back like a drawn bowstring. Using the backward momentum, he abruptly retracted his right fist half a foot, like a fully drawn bow, storing power, then shot it out again even faster than before.

The fist's force shifted from a crushing blow to a drilling one, the fist rotating slightly, carrying a sharp spiral energy that bored straight into Zhou Jingfeng's palm.

This retraction and release were seamlessly connected.

The smile on Zhou Jingfeng's face deepened. His right palm's trajectory remained unchanged, still drifting forward with an airy lightness, the energy in his palm held back but not released, ready to neutralize the fist with softness overcoming hardness.

Yet, just as his palm was about to touch Chen Yue's fist again, Chen Yue's wrist gave an almost imperceptible, extremely subtle flick and tremor.

With this seemingly insignificant flick, Chen Yue's fist twisted like a snake's head, sliding past the edge of the palm. The fist's target abruptly shifted from the palm to Zhou Jingfeng's completely unguarded chest—the Danzhong acupoint.

This change of move was completely unexpected!

A clear flicker of surprise passed through Zhou Jingfeng's eyes. Although the Iron Mountain Fist was a basic technique emphasizing explosive power, it was not without subtle variations.

But such a mid-strike trajectory change, relying solely on a minute wrist flick in the blink of an eye, required a profound understanding of fist technique energy circulation.

Usually, disciples needed years of hard practice, with constant correction from their master during sparring, before they could even glimpse such a skill.

Yet how long had Chen Yue been learning the Iron Mountain Fist?

Not only had he learned and mastered it, but he could already execute such a refined and brilliant variation?

Zhou Jingfeng had thought he was already rating this new disciple highly enough, but at this moment, he realized he had still underestimated him.

This intuitive comprehension of martial arts and the terrifying speed at which he turned techniques into instinct kept shattering his expectations.

"Good lad!"

Though surprised, Zhou Jingfeng remained composed, letting out a low praise. After all, he was an expert of the Bone Forging Realm, far beyond Chen Yue's level.

Even with the abrupt change, Zhou Jingfeng reacted with lightning speed. The palm that had been reaching forward transformed in the nick of time from a press to a slap, like a cloud dragon extending its claws, landing precisely on the outer side of Chen Yue's forearm, which had been left slightly open by the change.

"Slap!"

A soft sound rang out. A gentle yet irresistible lateral force came through, deflecting Chen Yue's cunning strike aimed at the chest, causing it to slide past Zhou Jingfeng's robes by a hair's breadth, the wind of the punch stirring the fabric slightly.

At this moment, Chen Yue's full-power punch and change had left his center wide open. His old strength was spent, and new strength had yet to arise.

If Zhou Jingfeng wanted to win, he only needed to follow up with an Iron Mountain Lean, sinking his shoulder and charging in, easily breaking Chen Yue's bones and sending him flying.

But this was an assessment, not a life-or-death fight. Zhou Jingfeng's goal was only to probe Chen Yue's foundation, so he naturally wouldn't use such a killing move. His stance was as steady as Mount Tai, and he did not press the attack.

Chen Yue's punch missed, and his force was deflected, but he did not stumble or rush to defend like an ordinary person. Following the momentum of his fist, he twisted his waist, and his left fist shot out like a venomous dragon from its cave, driving upward in a fierce, silent heart-piercing strike aimed at Zhou Jingfeng's exposed ribs.

The speed of this follow-up and the cunning angle made it seem as if he had already calculated that the first strike would miss, with the second arriving seamlessly. Offense and defense transitioned smoothly without any hesitation.

"Not bad!"

Zhou Jingfeng's eyes were full of smiles. Faced with this strike that forced a defense, he did not neutralize it on the spot. Instead, his feet shifted lightly, as if treading on water, and his body drifted back a foot, letting the fierce heart-piercing punch miss by a hair.

Seeing his master retreat, Chen Yue immediately followed like a shadow, stepping forward in hot pursuit. His fists came down like a storm, unleashing the full range of the Iron Mountain Fist's crushing, drilling, piercing, sweeping, and splitting forces. Fist shadows layered thickly, enveloping Zhou Jingfeng's entire body.

By the courtyard edge, Father Chen and Mother Chen were already watching with wide eyes and slack jaws.

In their view, they could only see two blurry figures rapidly interweaving and flashing across the field, hearing bursts of urgent wind sounds and muffled explosions, unable to make out any specific movements.

They gripped each other's hands tightly, palms slick with cold sweat. They felt a faint, hidden pride that their son could spar with his master, yet also a deep, overwhelming shock and bewilderment at the scene's intensity, far beyond their imagination.

Standing a little farther away, Ma Jun's mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide as saucers.