To be honest, Great Gang Leader Ou had treated him exceedingly well. Whether it was taking his second brother, Zhang Xiaohu, into the Misty Sect to repay a debt of gratitude, or the rewards he had given Zhang Xiaohua after the Martial Arts Tournament, Zhang Xiaohua had been extremely satisfied.
Yet Zhang Xiaohua still felt somewhat awkward.
Only awkward, not dissatisfied.
He had merely let them record his hodgepodge of fist techniques, yet they had subtly hinted at so much that it felt as though the fist technique would belong to the Misty Sect from then on, rather than being his alone.
People always had a certain possessiveness. If something was theirs, even if they did not use it themselves, they still disliked seeing others take it away. Once someone else took it, whether it was precious or worthless, it would weigh on their minds.
In truth, Zhang Xiaohua could not make heads or tails of this Big Dipper Divine Fist either. He did not know why it had the effect of tempering bones, nor did he know whether it would still work if others practiced it. He had obtained this fist technique easily; it was not something he had carried back at the risk of his life, so he did not consider it overly precious. Yet Great Gang Leader Ou's attitude toward the Big Dipper Divine Fist had been one of determination to obtain it, making Zhang Xiaohua vaguely feel that this fist technique was anything but ordinary. But it was precisely this extraordinary nature that troubled him. This was clearly a fist technique he had pieced together himself, yet it somehow seemed connected to Ou Peng. The man had even asked whether it had three hundred and sixty moves and whether he had learned it from a secret