The clear sky had turned somewhat gloomy. Though the sun stood three poles high, its rays were not yet harsh. The delicate sunlight shone upon the lotus pond, making it exceptionally enchanting, with an indescribable freshness. A breeze brushed past, the lotus leaves swayed, and ripples spread across the still water.
Had Zhang Xiaohua been here, he would surely have loved such a beautiful scene. Sadly, at such a fine time, he was beneath that beauty.
Zhang Xiaohua asked Zhang Chengyue.
Zhang Chengyue neither confirmed nor denied it. He merely sat quietly behind the desk, seeming somewhat weary of Zhang Xiaohua's excessive words.
Seeing this, Zhang Xiaohua said no more. He gathered his spirits and began practicing the Big Dipper Divine Fist from beginning to end in this somewhat dim yet brightly lit training ground.
Zhang Xiaohua practiced the Big Dipper Divine Fist dozens of times every day, so he was naturally exceedingly familiar with it. He performed all one hundred and eight moves with the force of a tiger stirring the wind. As the ancients said well: a phoenix was born from bathing in fire, and people could only grow through battle. The Big Dipper Divine Fist, tempered by the Martial Arts Tournament, could no longer be compared with the fist technique from a few days ago. As Zhang Xiaohua performed it now, he felt as though the fist was born from his heart. Every move flowed forth with utmost naturalness, each transition running like water without the slightest stiffness. In truth, "tiger stirring the wind" only described the bearing of Zhang Xiaohua's fist technique. It truly felt like the ancestor of ten thousand fists, looking down upon all living things. Yet the actual moves gave off not the slightest sound of wind, nor did any force spill outward.