Zheng Yong's heart ignited with a fiery determination as he exerted his full strength. His legs, like wheels of blazing fire, flipped and flew around the arena, his movements never leaving Su Weifeng's side. Zheng Yong's leg techniques sped up more and more, until the students watching could hardly keep up with the rhythm.
"Three hundred sixty degrees..."
"Chopping downward..."
"Another backspin followed."
"Five hundred four..."
"Damn, can't even tell what kind of leg technique it is anymore."
"Can't keep up, it's too fast, those aren't legs anymore."
"They're about to fly."
"How come that man hasn't moved yet? Are those all feints that didn't hit?"
"What's that noise? Am I hearing the sound of metal clanging, or am I hallucinating?"
...
