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... down several bluestone paths to Cao Feng’s residence.
It was a rather quiet and secluded courtyard.
Before he even drew near, he could already hear shouts coming from within the courtyard.
He saw Cao Feng sitting in a chair, holding a cup of tea, his brows tightly furrowed as he watched a boy of about thirteen or fourteen practice the Twelve Forms Fist.
The boy’s movements were somewhat flamboyant; he had only grasped the form, not its essence, and had clearly fai ...
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