At that moment, Zhang Yang's gaze was unfocused as he immersed himself in the system.
The surroundings gradually fell silent.
Below the ring, a sea of heads crowded together, everyone looking up at the figure standing on the platform.
Hiss!
Where had this grandmaster come from?
The figure on the ring stood with his hands behind his back, utterly still, yet his clothes suddenly began to flutter wildly despite the absence of wind.
For no apparent reason, a song began to echo in everyone's minds.
[With every step and every punch, focus your intent]
[Use your elbow to seize the centerline; remember the standards to attain the truth]
"To gaze upon lofty mountains... such is the bearing of a grandmaster!" someone suddenly muttered while looking up.
On the ring, Zhang Yang finally came back to his senses.
He looked at the crowd below, all of them craning their necks to stare at him. Their faces bore indescribable expressions—excitement, reverence, shock...
"Huh? Don't tell me I've triggered that grandmaster aura already?" Zhang Yang touched his mask and muttered to himself. "Forget it. When the deed is done, brush off my sleeves and leave. Time to go."
Basically, he had swept through every notable martial arts hall in Tianjin.
He had also collected all the mainstream styles of traditional martial arts. As for more? Chinese martial arts were vast and profound. There were not merely a hundred styles, but thousands. Naturally, it was unrealistic to collect them all.
As an individual, as a human being, how strong could one person possibly become?
Human strength would eventually reach its limit.
His current individual strength was already unimaginably powerful. It was enough...
With that thought, Zhang Yang flipped off the ring without hesitation.
Having mastered Tan Leg, he instinctively used a bit of technique