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"Mr. Xue, two more palms to go, no need to hold back, please do."
In the midst of Xue Zheng's shock, Ning Fan spoke indifferently.
Xue Zheng, no longer caring that he had said he would only strike once, had a grave expression. He sank his breath into his dantian, mobilizing his entire inner strength, and slowly struck out another palm towards Ning Fan's chest.
"Young man, then I will truly not hold back. This palm will teach you that there are always people better than you, and heavens beyond the heavens!"
With a low shout, Xue Zheng used eighty percent of his inner strength.
Bang!
Xue Zheng's palm firmly impacted Ning Fan's chest, producing a much duller sound than before.
But after the dull thud, Ning Fan remained unmoved, his expression unchanged.
There was not even the slightest sign of injury.
"I've taken the second palm," Ning Fan said lightly, under Xue Zheng's astonished gaze.