Hu Xiaotian had actually worked out the principle completely. The full moon must wane; water filled to the brim must overflow. If he could turn his body into a reservoir that regulated the amount of water, he would have nothing left to worry about. The Sun-Shooting Scripture was undoubtedly the best solution.
Old Beggar said, "There is a martial art called the God-Demon World-Ending Fist. It is immensely powerful, but few people practice it. First, it places extremely high demands on the practitioner's internal arts. Second, this fist technique consumes enormous amounts of internal power. Anyone qualified to practice the God-Demon World-Ending Fist could certainly be called an expert, and experts of that caliber know how to weigh gains against losses. Very few would practice a martial art that drains their internal power like this."
Hu Xiaotian said, "I'm not afraid of draining it. The more it drains, the better."
Old Beggar said, "What are you in such a hurry for? Did I say I would definitely teach you?"
Hu Xiaotian smiled. "Surely you didn't just happen to show up here? In my eyes, you treat me even better than my own father does. If my grandfather hadn't died long ago, I'd be convinced you were my real grandfather." Seeing the very peculiar expression on Old Beggar's face, he paused before adding, "Oh, right, I have a maternal grandfather too. It's just that he ran away from home forty years ago. You wouldn't happen to be him, would you?"
Old Beggar frowned. "You little brat, stop trying to claim kinship with me. I've never married. I'm all alone. What relatives could I possibly have?"
Hu Xiaotian said, "Never marrying doesn't mean you've never touched a woman in your life. Look at you, still vigorous in your old age, so imposing