Helian Zhaoyu's face rapidly distorted with the slap, his head following the force to twist to the side, and a stream of blood sprayed from his mouth.
He wore a white robe, originally spotless, but now a crimson bloodstain appeared on his chest, and one side of his hair was disheveled by the slap.
Helian Zhaoyu's face was burning with pain, a humiliation he had never experienced in his life. Who dared to slap him?
His head leaned to the right side and didn't turn back, maintaining stillness and silence, with no ripple on his face, but his eyes were chillingly terrifying.
"How satisfying!" Wu Yaizu shouted, directly rolling up his sleeves.
Xiang Yiwu's door-panel-wide body was also approaching, like a wall pressing over, casting a large shadow on the ground.
Qin Ming waved his hand, stopping them, and said, "I'll handle this myself!"
He wouldn't let the two get involved; this matter was not suitable for them to deeply intervene.
