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... in, Jiang Ming's upper body was bare, and his pants were rolled up to his knees. He was practicing fist techniques in the dark.
Beads of sweat kept dripping down, wetting the yellow soil.
It was not until the sky gradually brightened and there were sporadic human voices coming from the fields in the distance that Jiang Ming finally stopped, panting heavily. His whole body was steaming, and the lines of muscle between his shoulders were vaguely visible. 𝗯𝗲𝐝𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝗹．𝐨𝗿𝗴
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