Xiang Qingde was stunned.
He watched as Xiang Beifei was knocked down time and again, yet each time he got back up. The child was so strong, simply to figure things out.
This perseverance astonished him.
Xiang Qingde didn't know what Xiang Beifei had experienced in the past, nor what had sustained Xiang Beifei to this point, but now he understood what his grandson had endured over the years.
The spiritual power in the air conjured a terrifying aura, crashing over as Xiang Beifei's fist came at him once more.
Xiang Qingde's hand stopped mid-air, and this time he did not block the incoming punch, allowing Xiang Beifei's fist to fall toward his face.
Even though he could have blocked the punch, he still gave up.
Perhaps out of guilt or owing a debt, he hoped to make amends, even if it meant taking a punch from his own grandson.
At least it could let the child vent the resentment in his heart.
But Xiang Beifei's fist stopped an inch from Xiang Qingde's face.
