Wangkong's mind went completely blank, just like his name—utterly empty!
The tiny little child meticulously executed a set of staff movements and then, without even panting, asked him, "Did I perform it correctly?"
Swallowing, Wangkong touched his smooth, bald head, which was covered in sweat.
"Correct... yes, correct!"
Xiaosuisui nodded. "Can you teach me the rest?"
Master Wangkong suddenly felt that the situation had become rather serious. Looking somewhat helpless and on the verge of tears, he turned to the Ji Family.
"Amitabha. Donors, this is a cultivation technique of my Buddhist sect. It is inappropriate for this young donor to learn it!"
Old Madam Ji's breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to breathe. "How is it inappropriate?"
Ji Youzhi also chimed in. "Isn't it just your Buddhist sect's Eighteen Arhats Stick Technique? You've taught it to lay disciples for physical conditioning before. Why do you say it's inappropriate now, Master?"
