BANG!
Fist met palm. Zhao Lin stood his ground, but the tall, thin disciple was sent flying backward. A wretched scream escaped his lips, his face a mask of disbelief.
The short, stout disciple and Zhang Xiaoshan had just clashed. Startled by the sound, they both instinctively pulled back their attacks and retreated. When they turned to look, they were stunned speechless.
'How did he go flying in the blink of an eye?'
Zhao Lin had known this would be the outcome the moment he threw the punch. He pressed his advantage, closing the distance before the tall, thin disciple could even hit the ground. He struck a rapid series of blows against the disciple's Jianjing, Shencang, and Shaohai acupoints.
He used his energy to temporarily seal the man's acupoints, rendering him unable to use his fist or palm techniques.
Then, with a spin, he pushed off the ground and charged toward the short, stout disciple, throwing a punch.
