Huff... Huff... Huff...
Zhong Lin stood on the plaza, his entire being like one in reverence of Buddha, his toes lightly touching the black stone ground of the martial stage, his figure sinking and curling, resembling a giant toad poised to leap yet not leaping.
Heavy breathing emanated from his nose, and a rumbling sound vaguely came from his abdomen, like a beast emitting a low inefficacious noise.
Zhong Lin felt the increasingly compressed aura in his abdomen, causing his whole body to become agitated and boiling.
As time ticked away, a large puddle of sweat had already accumulated beneath Zhong Lin's feet.
Only after a while did Zhong Lin stop the stance of the "Heavenly Treasure Pile," showing a satisfied expression as he felt the increasingly stronger Qi-blood within his body.
After taking a rest, Zhong Lin began throwing punches on the spot.
The mystery of the boxing technique, far surpassing the "Iron Mountain Skill" in subtlety.
