On top of Guifeng Mountain, in a thatched hut, Hu Yang, wearing a sleeveless shirt and sandals, was lazily sitting on a wooden table with his legs crossed. He held a bowl in his left hand and chopsticks in his right, closing his eyes and counting something.,When Hu Yang spoke, his wrist jerked, sending the chopsticks flying out of his hand. Accompanied by a piercing whistle through the air, the two chopsticks embedded themselves firmly in the wall, with the previously buzzing flies still strung between them.,Lu Wan yi's horizontal fist directly knocked the burly man to the ground.。