The day after, before dawn, Tong Sanlang was already up and out of bed.
Previously, he had only taught Qiao Dami Martial Arts after breakfast, but Yang Zheng was different. Yang Zheng was already fourteen years old, and to truly master Martial Arts, he had to practice rigorously.
He took Yang Zheng running from the manor to Bailu Town, and then back again, covering a distance of roughly fifteen kilometers in total.
After completing the run, Yang Zheng was almost too exhausted to stand, drenched in sweat, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.
Feng Huihui stood at the entrance of the manor, her heart aching for him, repeatedly urging, "Come on, come on, go back and get cleaned up and change your clothes."
"It's, it's okay." Yang Zheng waved his hand.
By now, he was getting used to running. On the first day, he had walked rather than ran, but now he could run the whole way, which was already a big improvement.