Three Zen beads still moved steadily forward, and the old man's forehead had begun to show fine beads of sweat.
He hadn't attended school, he hadn't studied physics, but he still cared about his face.
Chu Feng had caught his attack. If he couldn't even catch his own attack, he probably wouldn't be able to mix in society afterward.
Chu Feng looked at the old man and gently shook his head, saying, "Books prove their worth in times of need; lack of education is truly terrifying."
"Shut up!"
The anger of the old man was uncontrollable; Chu Feng's mouth was really too mean—his words were noise pollution, a vexing disturbance, absolutely hateful.
"If I shut up, can you solve this puzzle?" Chu Feng said softly.
"Huh!"
The old man finally made his move, the broad sleeves of his robe catching all three flying Zen beads.
"Explode!"
Chu Feng softly commanded; then an explosion sounded from within the old man's sleeves.