Luo City Gymnasium.
Xu Sheng walked through the main entrance, his face hinting at some expectation, "I've heard that this Lin Fan is a true ancient martial arts successor. I've seen his videos; his fist force is so terrifying that he can crack stones without harming himself, and he can even walk on water. Maybe he knows Qinggong!"
"Heh... idiot, you've been fooled!"
Another spectator, clearly a fan of modern fighting, sneered, "Wang Qiao is a real fighting master, a national award winner. He has beaten those sham 'ancient martial artists'. All this Qingyun Mountain, Benlei Sect... they're all bloody frauds. The funniest thing is some Qigong master who didn't dare to make a move against Wang Qiao, claiming that once he uses his Qigong, he can't control it, and can't bear to hurt anyone. In the end, he got so scared by Wang Qiao that he pissed his pants..."
"I..."
Xu Sheng clenched his fist but couldn't retort, feeling extremely frustrated inside.
