Ye Fan suddenly grinned, revealing two rows of neat, white teeth.
Facing Meng Gang's ultimate move, he did not retreat but chose to confront head-on.
Confronting Li Zhaojun's profound detachment, Ye Fan felt a lot of pent-up frustration and bitterness, to the point where he tried to drown his sorrows with alcohol; yet tonight, after drinking a stomach full, he found it couldn't alleviate his woes, neither temporarily nor fundamentally.
He urgently needed an outlet to vent.
And just at this moment, Xie Liping came with reinforcements to kill.
It really felt like someone sent a pillow to a sleepyhead.
Ye Fan's center of gravity sank, the harsh sound of shoe soles against the ground echoed, and the cement road beneath his feet cracked open into fissures.
In an instant, the terrifying energy from his feet surged through his legs, waist, and finally to his shoulders.
Ye Fan, like a giant bow horizontally drawn tight, suddenly slammed his shoulders upwards, unstoppable as a flood.