The thirteen styles of one round of Faulty Punch was remaking the body one time. The searing pain had gradually become a stiff numbness. The awesome-pawsome Faulty Pumch had become an instinctual, mechanical repetition.
Wen Leyang was like a fully winded Iron doll. He executed the Faulty Punch over and over again at the foot of Nine Peaks Mountain, not knowing exhaustion nor hunger.
After three days, the Wen family disciples had erected a small house around him...
Most of the people had scattered, but Mumu and Xiaoyi were unwilling to leave. The two girls who were as beautiful as the waters of Spring did as they did when they were guarding the toad Xiu Er in the Miao Stockade Village the last time, guarding Wen Leyang every day.
