Roar!
At that moment, Fu Zilei's mouth erupted with a massive wave of sound, akin to the roar of a tiger, as it blasted forth beneath the teaching building. At the same time, his fists came together above and below his chest in a grand opening and closing motion, as if a fierce tiger were descending the mountain.
"Tiger-Shaped Fist!"
In this moment, Yang Yifeng's eyes lit up as if he had seen something quite amusing. However, his hands naturally came together, and then formed the shape of a colossal dragon's head.
"Dragon-Shaped Fist?!"
Upon seeing the form of Yang Yifeng's fists, Fu Zilei, who was charging over, underwent a drastic change in expression. He knew that his Tiger-Shaped Fist was learnt from an old monk in a temple years ago, and the monk's abilities were many times more formidable than Fu Zilei's.