「Five days later.」
The front courtyard of Sun's Martial Arts Hall in Chengping Square.
The pleasant sunlight dispelled some of the winter chill.
On the bluestone-paved training grounds, Yang Jing stood to the side, watching Jiang Haoyang practice the basic forms of the Mountain-Shattering Fist.
Jiang Haoyang held a horse stance, executing each movement with practiced form. However, his strikes still lacked a certain ferocity.
He was currently stuck at a bottleneck, unable to make a breakthrough.
Each punch carried the abundant power unique to a young man, and tiny beads of sweat soon broke out on his forehead, trickling down his cheeks.
"Sink your shoulders, drop your elbows," Yang Jing said at the opportune moment, his voice clear and firm. "When you punch, don't just use your arm strength. Try to channel the power from your waist and abdomen, letting it flow upward. That's how you'll stabilize your strikes."
