"Coat your fist in qi or use a martial technique if you want, just remember to hold back." Hao instructed.
"Alright, boss." Mo Xixi nodded seriously.
Mo Xixi would never think of hurting Hao. The boss had taken care of her, gave her a home, and more than that… he felt like family.
But she was also curious. She wanted to see it too.
The two stood facing each other.
Hao stood upright, his hands behind his back.
He straightened like a kid posing for a picture.
Mo Xixi drew in a breath and lowered her stance.
Her right fist clenched, and a black, thick aura began to crawl up from her knuckles, creeping slowly toward her elbow like spilled ink.
Hao's smile twitched slightly.
'Wait… is Little Xixi really holding back?'
'That aura got 'instant death' written all over it!'
This was the Cursed Burial Fist, a well-known basic technique from Ashen Curse Cult.
It wasn't flashy, but it was deadly in its own way.
A strike to the chest could seal a cultivator's qi flow for minutes.
