"Ha! Ha! Cough!"
Noon, somewhere in Hangzhou, within a manor.
The shouts of a man echoed repeatedly in the courtyard.
Simultaneously, the swift swishing sounds of garments whisking through the air could be heard.
Clearly, someone was practicing Kung Fu.
But look at this practitioner, a man in his twenties, over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a wide back, his neck as thick as a tree root, his head as big as a melon; however, his facial features were striking—thick eyebrows, bright eyes, a straight nose, square mouth, ears like jade fans, and lips red as cinnabar... quite remarkable.
You ask who this person is?
He is none other than the eldest son of the Murong family, Murong Ji.
At this moment, Murong Ji, clad in a tight and neat martial outfit, was stepping and boxing in an open area; despite his bulky figure, his movements were extremely agile, and every move and pose was full of power, the force of his punches breaking the air ferociously.
