"Zhang Xiaohua, Zhang Xiaohu? Haha~ Interesting." Yu Deyi laughed.
Zhang Xiaohua smiled as well. His smile was not as arrogant as Yu Deyi's, nor did it carry Shangguan Yun's haughtiness, Yu Lun's fawning, or Li Jinfeng's modesty. It was merely a smile, one from the bottom of his heart—perhaps a proud smile for his second brother, perhaps a happy smile at seeing his own future prospects.
Yu Deyi stopped laughing and asked, "Then tell me, what is the reason?"
Zhang Xiaohua spoke calmly and unhurriedly. "It means there is no particularly special reason, only proficiency. I have practiced fist techniques for a few days too, yet I have never made any progress. Today, after hearing you speak of my second brother, I suddenly realized that when one method is understood, ten thousand methods are understood. As long as one truly masters a single fist technique, it will have the same effect as practicing many different ones. There is also a saying: mastering a hundred skills is inferior to perfecting one skill. Is that not the same principle?"
Before anyone else could speak, Li Jinfeng, who was seated, could not help striking his folding fan with his hand and calling out in praise. "Brother Xiaohua, you explained it very clearly. The teachers at the academy always taught us that greedily swallowing too much only leads to indigestion; it is the same principle. A person's energy is limited. Reading ten thousand volumes without seeking deep understanding is instead inferior to focusing on one book and thoroughly digesting it. I never paid much attention to those words before, but now that I have heard of Brother Xiaohu's accomplishments, it seems I must take them seriously when I study in the future."
Yu Deyi still curled his lips, unconvinced. "You do not practice martial