Chen Ping was immersed in the "comprehension" of the fist technique, finding it increasingly comfortable with each practice, until the tingling, itching, and pain within his bones gradually disappeared, and dawn had already broken.
'I've unknowingly practiced all night.'
He stopped practicing and stood up, his body radiating heat, which transformed into layers of steaming mist, and a strange, foul stench filled his nostrils.
"Ugh!"
Even with his steely nerves, he almost vomited from the extremely foul smell.
He looked down in astonishment.
Chen Ping discovered that his clothes were covered with countless yellowish-black spots, as if they had been soaking in mud for months.
His skin was covered with a thick layer of black, oily grime…
The unpleasant smell was emanating from this fil
