Why do I have so many masters?

After chatting with his aunt for a while, Wang Anfeng finally left the house. The county city was not far from the county seat of Wangxian County; in ancient times, when the Xuanyuan clan rode the dragon into the sky, their ministers clinging to the dragon scales also attained eternal life. This county city, adjacent to the county seat, was considered greatly prosperous. Indeed, it could not be compared to any ordinary county, much less the small Great Liang Village. On his way, he witnessed thriving splendor, yet he only went to observe and did not linger there.

Previously, Wang Anfeng had already asked his aunt in detail and knew that after leaving the city, heading north for just over ten miles would bring him to a long river flowing through, with weeping willows and willows entwining along both banks—a place of numerous secluded spots. Utilizing the Shaolin Vigorous Step Technique as he moved along, indeed, he heard the rustling waters. Although the scenery here was enticing, it was ultimately far from the city, and most residents were busy making a living, so there were hardly any people around.

He found a secluded place, took a deep breath, and slowly started his fist movements, executing the Shaolin Changquan's Thirty-Two Stances, which he knew by heart. The movements were strict and vigorous, powerful in their simplicity. Even though it was a basic introductory fist technique, it still imparted an extraordinary sense. He completed the series of movements quickly and paused to ponder. Then he began the sequence again; this time, the style of his punches dramatically changed. The connections between moves were somewhat odd and amusing, yet occasionally, there were brilliant unexpected strikes as startling as thunder from a clear sky.

Although lacking in smooth coherence, he excelled in the attacking aspect, resembling a lone, daunting peak rising from the ground, startling the observer's heart. After several more rounds, he stopped again, furrowed his brows thinking deeply, and then started the initial Thirty-Two Stances once more. Though smooth, there was a nuanced difference, something else brewing within, making it somewhat different from the original. With each series of punches, his powerful movements stirred the fallen leaves, creating an imposing aura like a tiger roaring in the deep mountains.

Suddenly, his style changed again, still using the sequence of the Thirty-Two Stances but with added agility, quite unlike before. One after another, the movements were even more spectacular. Suddenly, from beyond the woods, a loud voice exclaimed:

"Great fist technique! Great fist technique!"

Wang Anfeng was startled, his punches coming to a halt as he turned to look and saw a handsome young man of his age stepping forward, his face full of joy and admiration. Wang couldn't help but pause and exclaimed:

"It's you!"

"Indeed, it's me, Brother Wang," the young man replied.

This youth was the same one he had seen in the tea shop. He was dressed in a cyan long gown at the time, but now he had traded it for a silver-gray round-necked robe embroidered with flying cranes, less elegant but with an added touch of nobility. He laughed in response to Wang's words and then solemnly said with a bow, "In Jianghu, it is a taboo to stealthily watch others practicing martial arts. I should have left, but seeing the robust and smooth moves of brother, I couldn't resist the urge to come out and have a match with you. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course, since I watched you practicing, I shouldn't take advantage of you. Although your fist techniques are proficient, your steps seem a bit stiff. I have a technique called Nine Palace Steps, which, although not very sophisticated, could benefit your future martial arts practice considerably. Watch carefully."

Wang Anfeng raised his hand to stop him, saying, "Hold on, wait a moment."

The young man, looking curiously, asked, "What is it, young brother? Do you have any advice?" Wang Anfeng shook his head and said, "No, it's just that you've only seen a few of my moves but are ready to teach me a stepping technique. This is a bit unfair to you."

The young man seemed startled at first, then laughed and said, "This stepping technique is merely a basic skill in the Taoist Sect, and many know it. As for your fist technique, though fierce and powerful, it's as rounded as the greatest masters' work, such an Unbreakable Martial Arts. The fact that I have glimpsed it is already a huge advantage for me. Besides... well, this stepping technique, just watch carefully."

As he spoke, he lifted his robe, slowed down, and began demonstrating a series of steps, saying:

"The cosmos's beginning and end evade the truth, space swiftly advances like the wind."

"The four symbols shift, revealing the heavens, endlessly seeking the Nine Palaces, whether with or against the flow."

"The Startling Bow Step Rhythm is ultimately mystical, each step breaks through all directions as if forging a prison."

After pacing back and forth a few times, and because it wasn't complicated, coupled with Wang Anfeng having read some books since he was young, he easily memorized it in his mind. After recalling and silently repeating it several times, he looked up to see the handsome young man smiling, standing in front of him, his face showing no signs of impatience. Not knowing how long he had been waiting, he raised his hand in a fist salute, slightly embarrassed, he said:

"Thank you."

The young man returned the fist salute, smiling as he said, "No need for thanks." Then, he crossed his fists, pulling into a stance, and said, "I have practiced some basic fist techniques. Please, let this little brother witness this set of fist technique."

Wang Anfeng nodded slightly, clearly not hesitating. He waved his hand to form the starting stance of the Shaolin Changquan, and declared:

"This is the Shaolin Changquan of Shaolin Temple. Please offer your guidance."

"Please!"

The two faced off, and the atmosphere gradually intensified. Suddenly, a breeze swept through, lifting the willow leaves. Just as they were about to fall, Wang Anfeng's eyes gleamed, his Inner Qi circulated, and he fiercely stepped forward, striking forth with a Central Plain Palm very properly.

The momentum from his stepping forward and the twisting force of his spine were channeled entirely into his right palm, the force reaching his fingertips, almost as sharp as a steel knife, directly aiming at the young man's throat with an imposing air. However, the latter remained calm, retreating with his steps, his ten fingers interlocking like blooming flowers, or perhaps gently stroking the strings of a zither, sequentially landing on Wang Anfeng's palm, dispersing his force softly and completely.

Wang Anfeng was surprised by the elegance, casualness, and power of this move. Although it was a friendly spar with no distinction of victory or defeat, for some reason, a sense of competitiveness sprang up in his heart. According to the sequence of moves, he should have followed with a Reverse Elbow Break, but feeling slightly indignant, coupled with a breakthrough in his Inner Qi and the grand intent of 'stars hanging over the plains, moon surging through the Yangtze' still lingering in his chest from last night, his steps suddenly changed.

His body moved like the surging Yangtze River, his left foot naturally stepping forward like a tightened war bow. His right palm, which had lost its force, didn't follow the original path but instead, his fingers curled like a tiger's claws, nearly skimming across the young man's tender neck as a feint, while his left hand spun out from under his ribs, aiming directly at the vital spot beneath the young man's rib cage. This move, unlike the previous upright and seamless punch, bore a bit of the fierceness of a killing move from the Circle of Ci.

The young man quietly exclaimed and stepped out the Nine Palace Steps he had just used, landing in the Qián Palace and floating around behind Wang Anfeng, avoiding his fierce attack.

At that moment, led by the Qi Mechanism, Wang Anfeng focused his spirit and almost instinctively changed his move. Keeping his right foot stationary and using it as the pivot, he suddenly spun around to elbow strike, aggressive and forceful. The sound of his short-hitting shirt snapping abruptly, and the young man's sleeve fluttering gently, one hard and one soft movement, danced together like the dual poles of yin and yang, effectively blocking the young man's next step in his Nine Palace Steps.

If he wanted to dodge, he could only move backward, but the young man, seemingly encouraged, chuckled lightly, advancing instead of retreating. He raised his arm, his fist technique changing from elegant and random to heavy and vast, directly meeting the punch and then striking straight at Wang Anfeng's throat.

Wang Anfeng was inwardly startled, this move came at a moment when his new strength hadn't yet formed; he had driven his opponent to a desperate situation, but he too was deeply trapped in a dilemma, with almost no room to retreat. Suddenly, he remembered his master's handling from the previous day. Instinctively, his body took a half step back, his right hand using the retreating step to catch up with an elbow half a step's distance, deflecting the young man's palm, and his left hand smashing downward, switching from defense to attack. The young man lightly exclaimed again, with a mix of surprise and delight, chuckling:

"Very good, indeed excellent fist technique."

In the midst of light laughter, his palm techniques were in no way inferior, the vigorous attacks continued. In this quiet spot by the willow-lined bank, two boys, only about thirteen or fourteen years old, one dressed in a blue short-hitting outfit and the other in luxurious clothing, exchanged blows with significant intensity.