Childhood Friend of the Zenith

One day, during training, my father spoke.

“There are those in Zhongyuan known as the Seven Irons and Three Fists.”

The heat was stifling. It wasn’t the kind of topic one would expect to discuss amidst the sweltering air that could easily heat up the entire training hall.

“Suddenly?”

Though I asked out of surprise, my father continued as if it didn’t matter.

This often happened when I trained with him.

He would talk about things I hadn’t asked.

Sometimes, I wondered if he wasn’t being a bit too chatty.

Even so, I never rebuked him for it.

I guess...

“Decades ago, during the war against the Unorthodox Sect, they stood out as some of the strongest.”

I didn’t mind these conversations.