"May I ask your name?"
"My surname is Ma, given name Fei. I trained under the Eight Trigrams Sect and, as luck would have it, also obtained the Xingyi True Inheritance!"
One asked, and the other answered.
"Oh?"
This time, Lian Youming was genuinely surprised.
He had not expected this man to possess the true inheritances of both Bagua and Xingyi.
Though Ma Fei's vital essence had declined, his face suggested he was barely sixty. His white hair hung all the way to his thighs, his body was thin as firewood, and a sparse beard covered his face. His narrow eyes were half closed, and his arms hung at his sides, his hands almost reaching his knees.
He was born with extraordinary gifts.
In ancient times, people said those with ape-like arms made fine archers, for such arms could gather tremendous force and wield great strength.
The same held true for Neijiaquan. Power issued through the fists, and between gathering and releasing it, a martial artist's outstretched arms defined his domain. This man was exceptionally gifted, with unusually long arms. Presumably, his approach resembled Xue Hen's.
Lian Youming glanced at the cell door. Only after seeing that the stone spheres showed no signs of moving did he say softly, "You were responsible for the disturbance coming from this cell every fortnight, weren't you?"
As he spoke, he looked toward a corner of the cell. An inconspicuous narrow crack lay there, with a faint current of air passing through it, and it appeared to have been blocked. Lian Youming flicked the toe of his right foot, sending a pebble shooting through the air into the crack. A wad of rags fell away, and a cold draft slipped inside, setting the flames swaying wildly.
It seemed that the terrifying spectacle of breath