The setting sun gradually lowered, and the sky also began to darken.
In the empty space, two figures were exchanging blows, the sound of fists colliding constantly ringing out.
Wang Ping and the others on the side watched this scene, admiration visible in their eyes.
Brother Fan was using fist techniques, and could actually fight back and forth with Uncle Zhang. They didn't know when they could achieve this level themselves.
Accompanied by a dull thud, Chen Fan stumbled back a few steps, looking a bit embarrassed.
His fists were bright red, like two steamed prawns.
"Want to go again?"
Zhang Ren's voice rang out from the opposite side.
"No more, no more."
Chen Fan shook his head with a wry smile and shook his hands.
"Hmm."
Zhang Ren discreetly placed his right fist behind his back, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He had been sparring with Chen Fan using fist techniques all afternoon.
