Sun Qingyuan's scream erupted, and he could hardly believe the pain that racked his body.
His soda bottle fell to the ground, shattering with a crisp sound.
Tang Chuxia didn't give him any time to retaliate; in fact, Sun Qingyuan was no match for her at all. As his bodyguards rushed over, Tang Chuxia showed no fear—she took them down with single kicks, guessing they wouldn't dare use firearms in public.
This provided her with many convenient opportunities.
She turned a group of bodyguards into groaning figures sprawled on the ground and even stacked them up for aesthetic effect—she really was meticulous.
At this point, Sun Qingyuan's face had turned painfully pale. He held his hand as beads of sweat continuously rolled down his forehead.
"Tang Chuxia, you're going to die!"
Sun Qingyuan's curse meant nothing to Tang Chuxia.
