"Mr. Jiang, I'm the senior disciple of the Zhang Martial Arts Hall."
"I'm the second."
"And I'm the third."
The three men were between their late twenties and mid-thirties, and all were Ninth-Grade Grandmasters.
"Mr. Jiang, you previously sparred with our junior sister, Zhang Rui. Your Body Skill was exceptional, leaving us in admiration. Now, we three brothers, overestimating our own abilities, would like to ask for your guidance. Would you be willing to instruct us?" The senior disciple cupped his fists again.
"Please instruct us, Mr. Jiang," the second and third brothers said in unison.
"Insolent!"
Zhang Shangfeng slammed his hand on the table, an eyebrow raised. "Mr. Jiang's abilities are unparalleled. You still want to spar? Are you looking to die? You ill-mannered fools, stand down!"
"Yes, sir!" The three brothers knew when to back off. They nodded and began to withdraw.
