Zhang Xiaohua waved his hand with easy grace and left.
The people in the cabin were left in an awkward spot.
The fellow sufferers of Xinrong Sect looked at one another, each at a loss for words.
Yes. In their eyes, he had merely been an ordinary young boatman, something no more than an ant that they could crush with a casual stretch of the hand. Yet just as they reached out, they suddenly discovered that what he had shown them was only his little toe, while all they had seen was a blurry leg. As for the full extent of his strength—please, they had not even had time to see it clearly.
At that moment, Junior Brother Li spoke. "Senior Brother Bai, I think this youth is only around fifteen. Even if he were a disciple of some famous great sect and had begun cultivating internal energy at four or five, he would have at most ten years of practice. From what Senior Brother said this afternoon, this fellow merely received instruction from some down-and-out martial artist. Even if he was not telling the truth, he could only have practiced internal energy for five or six years. I reckon all he has is Lightness Skill Movement Technique. If it truly came to a fight, he definitely would not be our match."
Another lean, wiry man also shouted, "Exactly, Senior Brother. He is only one man, while we brothers number more than ten. Why should we fear him?"
Chai Feng curled his lip. "Using the strong to bully the weak, using numbers to bully the few."
Bai Yonggui frowned. "The sect's affairs come first in all things. How can we fuss over such trifles?"
Someone else asked, "Right, Senior Brother Bai, can you be certain this youth only knows Lightness