Li Yan saw this and was immediately startled.
Today, this place was filled with masters, and they had agreed to be low-profile and learn from others, so how had they ended up confronting someone so quickly?
He frowned slightly and hastened his steps.
But as he got closer, he couldn't help but burst into laughter.
He saw that standing opposite Zhang Shitong was an old man dressed in worn cotton clothes with a bamboo hat on his head, and even a twig stuck in his bun.
The old man's getup was that of a desolate wanderer of the pugilistic world.
Yet, he was also standing with his hands on his hips and staring with dead fish eyes, almost exactly mimicking Shitong's demeanor.
"What did I do to you?" Zhang Shitong was clearly displeased and spoke with a restrained anger.
"How can I not interfere?" The old man's voice was nasal as if he was pinching his nose, "You, a mere boy, dare to resemble me?"
As soon as he spoke, a thick Hubei accent was apparent.
