Dumbfounded

Everyone moved to the center of the spacious training ground.

Yu Kan stepped forward and cupped his hands. "Master, why not let me take your place and spar a few moves with our junior brother? You can watch from the side and offer guidance."

Zhou Jingfeng shook his head. "No need. I want to personally feel how Chen Yue's strength flows, gauge his vitality, and see how he reacts to an opponent."

Only by testing him firsthand could he know precisely which stage of the Skin Refining Realm Chen Yue had reached and how thoroughly he had tempered his sinews, bones, and skin.

As he spoke, Zhou Jingfeng walked to the middle of the training ground and stood firm, his bearing as steady as a mountain.

He beckoned to Chen Yue, his voice gentle yet carrying an unquestionable force. "Chen Yue, come. Use your strongest moves and attack me with all your strength. Hold nothing back, and don't worry about hurting me.

"Only if you give it your all can I see your true abilities. Remember, this is a test, but it's also the beginning of your instruction."

Chen Yue took a deep breath. He knew his master was personally testing his foundations, a necessary step before passing on more advanced martial arts.

He focused his mind and calmed his breath, bringing himself into peak condition. Facing Zhou Jingfeng in the middle of the training ground, he solemnly cupped his hands. "This disciple will obey. Please instruct me, Master!"

With a thought, the inner force of the Mountain-Climbing Art surged like a raging torrent, flooding his limbs and body in an instant. Beneath his skin, his vital energy stirred.

The essence of the Roaming Mountains and Rivers footwork flowed through his mind. Chen Yue's foot slid forward with an almost casual ease, his figure leaving behind a blur. In the blink of an eye, he crossed several yards and closed to within five feet of Zhou Jingfeng.

Without any flashy opening move, he twisted his waist and drove his right fist forward like a slumbering dragon bursting from its cave, taking the shortest, straightest route to Zhou Jingfeng's center.

The air seemed to ripple faintly where his fist passed.

"Good!"

A flash of light gleamed in Zhou Jingfeng's eyes. Instead of being startled, he was delighted, and his voice rang out in praise.

He neither dodged nor retreated. He simply raised his right palm, fingers slightly spread, and lightly met Chen Yue's fist.

Thump!

Fist met palm with a deep, resonant boom!

Chen Yue felt as though the fist that could have snapped a wooden post had struck a muddy bog. At the same time, a strange, resilient counterforce came from his master's palm and traveled along his fist and arm, quickly spreading to his shoulder, back, waist, and entire body.

The counterforce wasn't violent, but it was overwhelming. Chen Yue's upper body involuntarily tipped backward, and his balance wavered.

Yet Chen Yue's reaction was astonishingly quick. He neither tried to force his way through the counterforce nor stumbled backward in a panic to dissipate it.

The instant his body leaned back, his hips and waist snapped like a drawn bowstring. Using the backward tilt, he pulled his right fist back half a foot as if drawing a powerful bow, storing up force before launching it forward again, faster than before.

His fist shifted from a crushing strike to a drilling one. Its knuckles turned slightly, driving a sharp spiraling force straight into Zhou Jingfeng's palm.

The pullback and release flowed together seamlessly.

The smile on Zhou Jingfeng's face deepened. His right palm continued along the same path, gliding forward as calmly as ever. He kept the force in his palm contained, ready to overcome strength with softness once more and dissolve the punch without a trace.

But just as his palm was about to meet Chen Yue's fist again, Chen Yue's wrist gave an almost imperceptible twitch and shudder.

That seemingly insignificant movement sent Chen Yue's fist slipping past the edge of Zhou Jingfeng's palm like a serpent's darting head. The target of his strike abruptly shifted from the palm to the unguarded acupoint at the center of Zhou Jingfeng's chest.

The change was completely unexpected!

A clear flicker of astonishment crossed Zhou Jingfeng's eyes. The Iron Mountain Fist was a basic boxing art that emphasized powerful strikes, but that didn't mean it lacked subtle variations.

To shift the path of a punch in the flash of an instant with nothing but a tiny wrist movement, however, required an exceptionally deep understanding of how a boxing technique's force flowed.

Most disciples had to train bitterly for years, with their master continually feeding them moves and correcting them, before they could get even a glimpse of the technique.

But how long had Chen Yue been practicing the Iron Mountain Fist?

Not only had he learned it and trained until it was familiar, he could already execute such a subtle and ingenious variation?

Zhou Jingfeng had thought he was already giving his newly accepted disciple enough credit. At that moment, however, he realized he had still underestimated him.

Chen Yue's instinctive gift for martial arts and the terrifying speed with which he turned techniques into instinct kept shattering Zhou Jingfeng's expectations.

"Good lad!"

Though surprised, Zhou Jingfeng remained composed and let out a quiet word of praise. He was, after all, an expert in the Bone Forging Realm, with strength and cultivation far beyond Chen Yue's.

Even with the sudden change in technique, Zhou Jingfeng reacted at lightning speed. At the last possible instant, his advancing palm changed from a press into a slap. Like a cloud dragon reaching out with its claws, it struck the outer side of Chen Yue's forearm precisely as the shift in his attack left it exposed.

Smack!

A light slap rang out. A gentle yet irresistible sideways force sent Chen Yue's tricky punch veering outward, skimming past Zhou Jingfeng's robes. The gust of his fist stirred the fabric.

By then, Chen Yue had thrown his full strength into the attack and its sudden change of direction. His center was exposed; his previous force had run its course, and his next had yet to build.

If Zhou Jingfeng wanted to win, all he had to do was use the Iron Mountain Lean, dropping his shoulder and crashing forward. He could easily send Chen Yue flying with broken bones and torn sinews.

But this was only a test, not a fight to the death. Zhou Jingfeng's sole aim was to probe Chen Yue's foundations, so naturally he wouldn't use such a lethal move. He stood as firm as a mountain and did not take advantage of the opening.

Chen Yue's punch missed, and its force had been deflected, but he didn't stumble or rush to guard himself like an ordinary person. He followed through with the momentum, twisting his waist as his left fist shot upward like a poisonous dragon emerging from its cave, a vicious drilling cannon strike silently burrowing toward the opening beneath Zhou Jingfeng's ribs.

The follow-up came so quickly, from such a tricky angle, that it seemed Chen Yue had already calculated his first attack would miss and the next would immediately follow. His transition between offense and defense flowed smoothly, without the slightest hitch.

"Not bad!"

Zhou Jingfeng's eyes were full of delight. Faced with a strike that demanded a response, he didn't stay in place to deflect it. Instead, he shifted his steps lightly, as though treading on rippling water, and drifted back a foot—just enough for the vicious drilling cannon strike to miss by a hair's breadth.

As soon as Chen Yue saw his master retreat, he pursued like a shadow. His fists rained down like a storm as he unleashed the Iron Mountain Fist's crushing, drilling, cannon, sweeping, and chopping strikes to their fullest. Layer upon layer of fist shadows engulfed Zhou Jingfeng.

By the edge of the courtyard, Father Chen and Mother Chen were already staring in dumbfounded amazement.

All they could see was two blurred figures darting and crossing through the training ground. They heard only the rapid rush of wind and sharp bursts of sound; they couldn't make out the movements at all.

They clutched each other's hands tightly, their palms slick with cold sweat. They felt a faint pride that their son could exchange moves with his own master, yet the ferocity of the scene, far beyond anything they had imagined, filled them with dread and bewilderment.

Standing a little farther away, Ma Jun had his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide as saucers.