At the square before Zeng Family Manor's gates, heat waves rolled beneath the blazing sun, while a howling wind whipped yellow sand across the sky.
It was a sight that had no business appearing in You Province, yet here it was, a stone's throw from the sea.
A figure flickered through the blowing sand.
Zeng Xiaoqiang seemed to have become a desert scorpion, darting through the sand with uncanny agility as he searched for an opening.
But whenever he came within ten feet of Pan Long, a flash of steel met him head-on.
All he could do was retreat.
They had exchanged only one blow, but it had told him that the One-Coin Hero was stronger than he was—and not by a little.
The difference in their strength was one of kind, not degree!
At first glance, that clash of blades had forced him back only one step. It hardly looked like a loss. But he had noticed that his opponent had not merely held his ground; his arm had not even wavered.
He might as well have been a child charging into a boulder. The boulder stayed immovable, while the child went stumbling back with a thud.
The gap was so vast that, had they been fighting anywhere else, he would have fled long ago.
"One force subdues ten skills" was an undisputed truth of martial arts.
To defeat someone far stronger than yourself, you had to be fast enough—or fight with extraordinary cunning.
But the disheartening truth was that, more often than not, the stronger someone was, the faster they were too.
Big and clumsy was an illusion held by ordinary people. Among the powerful, it was almost unheard of.
Since speed gave him no advantage, he could only seek one in his footwork and techniques.
So he