The hard yellow earth shattered into fist-sized lumps as the noonday sun cast its rays upon the martial training grounds.
Tiny particles of dust danced in the shafts of light, rising and falling with each heavy breath.
Figures intertwined, their movements a blur to the eyes of the onlookers clinging to the walls surrounding the martial grounds.
A hush blanketed the scene.
Lan Tai lowered his head, watching the shadow at his feet sway.
He turned to glance at his master and saw that Pang Qinghe's face was expressionless, his features devoid of any vitality or spirit.
His junior brother had lost.
When it came to a contest of fists, it could only end in two ways: one side overpowering and forcing the other back decisively or both opponents being repelled mutually, both stepping back in retreat.
Yet, never was it meant to be like this, with them tangled together.
This left only one possibility: Liang Qu's control over his power far surpassed Kou Zhuang's.
His upper body was not bent backward from being struck, but from absorbing the force!
Exchanging distance for force, he had stuck to Kou Zhuang's fist and then, in a motion like a steel plank bridge, fiercely crushed back!
Technique and brute force—absolutely overwhelming!
With just a single punch, the junior brother was utterly defeated!