The elders of the Divine Fist Sect felt that Wu Tian must have had conditions for teaching Zhou Butong this fist art. Otherwise, why would such a powerful technique be taught to someone so casually? Perhaps it required Zhou Butong to do something against his conscience and morals, maybe even sell his soul.
"No, you're overthinking it." Zhou Butong shook his head. Wu Tian had taken him as a disciple as part of their wager, and after teaching him the fist art, Wu Tian hadn't asked for anything. Anyone else would have certainly used such a formidable technique to threaten him into doing their bidding. But Wu Tian had not. Such a profound art was given to him, just like that. Thinking about this, Zhou Butong, the stubborn old man, was inexplicably moved.
He treats me as a man of great worth, and I shall repay him as one! At this thought, a tremor ran through Zhou Butong's body, his eyes filling with resolve. He had to repay Wu Tian. And what did Wu Tian need most right now?
