Everyone was arguing about what the Heavenly Palace was, and everyone had their own opinions. Han Chengxin had not slept all night, and was headached by the noise. He waved his hand and said, "Whether it is the Heavenly Palace or the Earthly Palace, when Mr. Wu comes tonight, ask him and he will reveal it. wWw、QUanbEn-xIAoShUo、COmEveryone go back to sleep. You still have to work tonight, don't be exhausted by then."
Han Xiaohan returned to the room, threw himself on the bed, and looked at the white ceiling for a long time. Then he blinked, turned over and sat up, with the Frost Blade in his hand.
The blade was cold, emitting a chill. A faint speck of white mist could be seen around the Frost Blade. He learned from Han Chengxin that the two men in black, one tall and one short, who met in the square, were at least second-rate in martial arts, if not first-rate. How could they be defeated by a man taught by a third-rate master like him? Did his grandfather lie to him? Or was Han Chengxin exaggerating? Han Xiaohan couldn't figure out whether his martial arts were high or low, strong or weak. He sighed, put away the frost, and lay back on his bed. In fact, Han Changchun and Duan Qi were already first-rate masters decades ago. The former's Tianji Step was the best in the world, and it was hard for gods and ghosts to predict what would happen with one step, while the latter's fast swordsmanship was even more famous in the martial arts world. At that time, Duan Qi danced four swords with both hands, and there was no rival in the world. However, the two were afraid that he was young and frivolous, so they deliberately belittled themselves to third-rate, so that Xiaohan would have a normal heart and put himself in a lower position when doing things. Han Xiaohan naturally didn't know these.
He tossed and turned in bed and couldn't fall asleep, so he simply jumped out of the window, sat cross-legged on the ground, and practiced breathing exercises.
Han Xiaohan had been taught the authentic inner strength by Han Changchun and Duan Qizhong since he was a child. He had practiced for more than ten years. With his special physique, his skills had already reached a level that no one could underestimate. He closed his eyes slightly and took a deep breath. He could feel the vibrant oxygen seeping into his blood from his trachea, and then being extracted from his blood to the major meridians throughout his body. The originally calm meridians suddenly became active, just like a ripple in a quiet lake. First a little bit, and soon, every meridian in his body was jumping excitedly, absorbing energy from the outside world. Han Xiaohan inhaled into his body in one breath, and did not breathe for three minutes. After a long time, he slowly exhaled the waste gas in his body.
Two streams of white air flowed out slowly from his nose and quickly gathered together to form two balls of white mist. The white mist condensed and did not disperse, turning into a white fog circle that surrounded Han Xiaohan.
Before the white mist dispersed, he exhaled two more streams of air into the mist circle. Two hours later, Han Xiaohan's true body was completely shrouded in the white mist. If someone entered the room and took a cold look, they would think that a huge stone suddenly appeared in the room. After another two hours, the white mist finally faded, and Han Xiaohan's figure gradually appeared in it. The white mist seemed to have life, constantly drilling into his nostrils, then floating out from the top of his head, slowly fading, dispersing, and disappearing.
"Hoo!" Han Xiaohan let out a long breath and stood up. More than four hours of meditation made him feel light and comfortable. The energy accumulated in his meridians flowed up and down, saturated to the point of bursting. He was full of energy and spirit, and even he could feel the brilliance flashing in his eyes. He couldn't stay in the room any longer and walked out. At this time, there was no one sober in the bar. They were all drinking and playing chess with Zhou Gong, sleeping soundly.