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A porter had suddenly become a murim martial artist and a grandson of the Palm Martial Emperor. As a result, those who had treated him as lower than themselves in social status didn't have the courage to approach him due to sheer awkwardness.
Woo-Moon walked with Woo-Gang in front of the carriage for a while, but then naturally slowed down and moved behind the carriage. Soon, he distanced himself from the noisy crowd around Woo-Gang.
'Good.' Woo-Moon walked slowly and thought about the Raging Wind Palm and the Heavy Rain Fist.
He wanted a lightness art of his own, but for now, he needed to prioritize completing the palm and fist techniques that he was already working on.
Woo-Moon recalled the images of the Raging Wind Palm and the Heavy Rain Fist in his mind, then slowly started moving accordingly, reproducing those mental images using his palms and fists.
'Ever since I used the Raging Wind Palm that one time, the technique feels much more familiar and natural than the Heavy Rain Fist.'
At that time, Eun-Ah started wriggling, indicating that she had woken up from her slumber in Woo-Moon's breast pocket. Come to think of it, he hadn't been able to let her play outside in the past two days.
"Poor thing, you must be pretty frustrated, huh?"
Woo-Moon thought he could let her out now. He lifted Eun-Ah, who had become a little...
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