If Sun Zhi's punch was like a mountain, then Song Xiaodong's palm was the earth, the mulberry fields may turn into seas, but the earth remains unchanged!
Sun Zhi tried to pull back his hand, but found that Song Xiaodong was tightly gripping his fist, the bones in his hand seemed to be on the verge of breaking.
Yet, there was not a hint of strain on Song Xiaodong's face.
"Ah..." Sun Zhi cried out in pain, unable to resist kneeling down.
The hand is the source of strength. If Song Xiaodong were to cripple Sun Zhi's hand, Sun Zhi's twenty years of hard kung fu practice would have been in vain!
"Twenty years of hard kung fu, practicing is not easy, you may go."
Song Xiaodong suddenly released his hand.
Sun Zhi pulled his hand back, finding it bruised and purple from the grip.
"I concede!" Sun Zhi performed the fist salute, his head bowed respectfully, and retreated back into the ranks.
