Chu Fan glanced over the people cultivating in the Martial Arts Arena, then turned and returned to his residence.
Zhao Tianxing was nowhere to be seen in the courtyard. 'He must have gone to the dining hall…'
He held his breath and focused, beginning to feel the qi and blood that surged ceaselessly through his body, yet was as easy to command as his own limbs.
As his qi and blood circulated, an unprecedented sense of lightness was quietly welling up from every part of his body.
He took a deep breath, recalling what it felt like to use his Running Technique in the past.
In the past, when he used it, he could move like the wind and his speed was astonishing. But every step he took was heavy and forceful, sending grass clippings flying and leaving shallow depressions in the earth—clear footprints.
If it was after a rain, he would inevitably splash mud everywhere, often leaving a complete mess in his wake.
It was the impact of pure power and speed—overbearing, but lacking finesse.
