Under One Person: My Inner Realm Connects to All Worlds!

Chapter 9 Cannon Leg Sand Palm
"Who is it?"

A hoarse voice came from inside the door.

"Junior Han Yun has come to pay his respects to the senior Tang family," Han Yun said respectfully.

The door creaked open a crack, revealing a wrinkled face.

The old man was around seventy years old, with gray hair, but his eyes were bright and piercing: "What brings you here?"

"I have long heard of the profound martial arts tradition of the Tang family, and I would like to ask them for some guidance."

The old man looked Han Yun up and down, his gaze lingering on his youthful face for a moment: "Wait."

The door closed again.

About ten minutes later, the door reopened, this time completely open. The old man gestured for them to enter: "The head of the household invites you in."

Crossing the high threshold, you are greeted by a brick-carved screen wall with a pattern of pine trees and cranes symbolizing longevity.

Passing the screen wall, the view suddenly opened up, revealing a square courtyard paved with bluestone slabs in the center. In front of each of the side rooms, a row of weapon racks stood, their swords, spears, and halberds gleaming coldly in the setting sun. Above the main room hung a plaque with the four large characters "Martial Virtue Endures Forever."

"this way please."

The old man led Han Yun through the corridor to the east wing. He pushed open the carved wooden door, and a scent of ink mixed with the aroma of tea wafted out.

The room was simply furnished. A mahogany desk stood by the window with a thread-bound book open on it. Several calligraphy and paintings hung on the wall, among which a cursive script of "Zen and Martial Arts are One" was particularly eye-catching.

A man in his early fifties sat in a grand chair behind the desk. He had thick eyebrows, a square face, and slightly protruding temples, clearly a master with profound cultivation.

"My name is Tang Zongyi." The man stood up and clasped his hands in greeting. "Young friend, you've come from afar. May I ask what brings you here?"

Han Yun bowed deeply and said, "I am Han Yun, a junior. I have long heard that the Tang family's martial arts originated from the Northern Shaolin Temple, and I have come here to seek your guidance."

Tang Zongyi gestured for Han Yun to sit down. The old man quietly withdrew and returned a moment later with a tea tray. Tang Zongyi personally poured the tea, his movements fluid and precise, as if measured with a ruler.

"Who is Han Xiaoyou's teacher?"

"I am ashamed to say that I am a self-taught person with no proper teacher." Han Yun took the teacup and noticed that Tang Zongyi's fingers were fair and delicate, which was very inconsistent with his age.

A hint of surprise flashed in Tang Zongyi's eyes: "Judging from your figure and footwork, young friend, you seem to have some foundation."

Han Yun put down his teacup and said frankly, "To be honest, senior, I have indeed learned some rudimentary skills, but they are not systematic. It is said that a newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger. I am eager to learn from all schools of martial arts. I have come here today to ask the Tang family for some guidance."

"Once I leave this room, whatever the outcome, I will not spread it around. Please rest assured, senior!"

From the moment Han Yun entered until now, Tang Zongyi's impression of Han Yun can be summed up in four words: "Sensible! Well-behaved!"

He had initially thought it was some arrogant young punk coming to the Tang family to cause trouble, but to his surprise, the boy was well-behaved and neither servile nor arrogant, only asking for advice.

Furthermore, it was stated that the results of this consultation would not be publicized.

The most important thing for families and sects of extraordinary individuals is their reputation. Losing a fight is shameful, and others will use it to elevate their own reputation. Even winning against a junior is not honorable.

Therefore, these families and sects with extraordinary abilities generally do not easily accept challenges from others, especially from younger generations.

Han Yun made a promise first, which made Tang Zongyi feel quite good about him, and he softened his tone.

He sat to the side, much more casual in his demeanor. He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and then sighed, "Learning a hundred skills and eating a hundred meals—it's tough!"

"It is difficult, but I chose this path myself, and I must continue no matter how difficult it is. Moreover, for someone like me who comes from an unorthodox background, how can I make a name for myself if I don't learn from others' strengths and make up for my weaknesses and broaden my horizons while I am young? Don't you think so?"

Han Yun acted like an ambitious young man, innocent yet full of expectation and hope.

Having made this gesture, he had enough control over the other party. Tang Zongyi put down his teacup, his knuckles tapping a dull sound on the mahogany table.

"What a remarkable achievement to learn from a hundred different schools of thought!"

He stood up and invited, "Let's talk in the courtyard."

Han Yun followed them through two moon gates, and a martial arts arena, about three zhang square, suddenly appeared before him. The ironware on the weapon racks at the edge of the arena gleamed with a ghostly light, and several sacks filled with sand were piled up in the corner.

Tang Zongyi stood in the center of the field and suddenly lashed out with his right leg like a whip.

"Snapped!"

With a crisp crack, the sandbag three meters away burst open, and iron sand cascaded down like a waterfall, spreading out in a perfect fan shape on the ground.

"One of the unique skills of Northern Shaolin, the Twelve Rounds of Cannon Kick." Tang Zongyi finished his stance, his trouser legs still trembling slightly, and his wrist bones cracked as he clasped his fists. "Be careful."

"Senior, please give me some advice!"

Han Yun casually assumed a fighting stance in preparation for the situation.

Tang Zongyi looked at Han Yun, who seemed to have many flaws, and shook his head slightly in disappointment, but he didn't hesitate to make his move.

He raised his right leg and kicked out, the air exploded with a loud bang, the first move of the twelfth round of cannon kicks, "Mountain Splitting Cannon", hit Han Yun's chest with a loud bang, just like a cannonball.

Han Yun took a half step back, his clothes were torn open by the strong wind, and the second leg followed immediately. His left leg swept across like a steel whip, making a tearing sound.

Unfortunately, Han Yun still easily dodged it.

Then, Tang Zongyi's body sank down, and his right leg swept across like a whip again. The air was compressed and squeezed out with a loud bang, like gunpowder exploding, and it also brought with it a powerful and oppressive wind.

The term "cannon leg" can also be called "cannon leg".

Its momentum is aggressive like fire, fierce and solid, hard-hitting and relentless, yet it is also continuous and unending.

It emphasizes upright posture, taking one step at a time, combining strength and gentleness, being naturally relaxed and unhurried, strong yet flexible, possessing both power and agility.

Like a spring, it delivers maximum impact to the enemy.

Han Yun's pupils contracted, and his innate ability was activated instantly. Tang Zongyi's movements slowed down in Han Yun's eyes, and his body leaned backward like a willow catkin, with his leg just barely grazing his nose.

"So fast!"

Han Yun was secretly alarmed. Even with his innate supernatural abilities, Tang Zongyi's movements were still incredibly swift. Before he could even stand firm, Tang Zongyi was already there again.

He leaped into the air, his right leg slashing down like a battle axe, with immense force, aiming straight for the top of the head!

"boom!"

The bluestone slabs shattered, and fragments of stone flew everywhere.

Han Yun dodged to the side, but the strong wind still stung his cheek. He dared not be careless and activated the Silent Technique. With a tap of his toes, he flipped over several times and slid three zhang away like a ghost, creating distance.

"Ok?"

Tang Zongyi's heart skipped a beat; he had failed several times in a row.
He quickly changed his move, kicking a high back kick with his left leg, but Han Yun seemed to have anticipated it, ducking down in advance, his leg grazing past his head without even touching a hair!

At this moment, Tang Zongyi seemed to realize that he couldn't defeat his opponent with just kicks, so he immediately warned, "Be careful, it won't just be leg techniques coming up next!"

In Han Yun's view, Tang Zongyi's palms suddenly turned iron gray.

(End of this chapter)