There was a giant pit on the mountain, filled with smoke and dust. The elderly man in ragged clothes was bleeding from his mouth. His breathing fluctuated intensely. When unsteady, he paused on the path.
Ye Fengsheng came with potential, bowing in the air, his knees slightly bent, aiming at the Qingcheng chest below, then fell.
The ground trembled. Thick and black cracks, visible to the naked eye, spread like a spider web in all directions. Ye Feng reached out his hand, wiping the blood from Qingcheng's mouth and spat on him. Through the dust, he saw those hideous eyes. He raised his fist and heavily landed it on the wrinkled green-orange-yellow cheek.
Qingzhi's head fell deeply into the ground, but he did not reveal a color of pain. Ye Feng's voice spun around, his fist raised high, and slammed down heavily. Apart from the initial anger-venting punch, every other punch landed precisely on Qingzhi's body, crushing the slowly pulled together Spiritual Energy.
