Chengping Square, Sun's Martial Arts Hall.
The bluestone slabs of the front courtyard's training grounds were scorching hot under the sun.
Jiang Haoyang was in a horse stance, repeatedly practicing the opening move of the Mountain-Shattering Fist. Although there was some force behind his punches, they were sluggish and distracted.
His gaze kept darting toward the Martial Arts Hall's main gate, his fists clenching and unclenching.
His mind was a mess, filled with images of his senior brother, Yang Jing.
'Senior Brother has probably reached Black Wind Valley by now, right?'
'The Flying Horse Thieves are so vicious. Will they try to kill Senior Brother?'
The more he thought about it, the more unsettled he became. His punching rhythm fell into disarray, and even his horse stance wavered.
BANG!
His fist slammed into the wooden stake, the force slightly off-center, and the impact sent a numbing shock through his knuckles.
