Suddenly, Yang Hong's back leaned against something, she turned around, and it was Ye Haochuan.
Seeing the panic on her small face, Ye Haochuan smiled faintly, pulling her behind him, "Leave it to me."
It was a casual remark, yet for some reason it gave Yang Hong a sense of unparalleled security. Looking at Ye Haochuan's not particularly strong, but exceptionally straight figure, her heart was unexpectedly moved.
"Kid! If you don't want to die, beat it! The knife in the young master's hand isn't for laughing!" The people looked disdainful, each pulling out a small spring-loaded knife from their hands.
"Kneel on the ground, admit your fault, and slap yourself a few times, then maybe I'll spare you," Ye Haochuan chuckled, his eyes filled with mockery.
He seemed oblivious to the knives in these people's hands; not a trace of fear could be seen on his face.
"Looking for death!"