Feng Yi is a special forces soldier; how could he possibly fear these drunks? In just over ten minutes, he had them all taken care of.
Assistant Zhang patted his chest, full of lingering fear. Fortunately, nothing serious happened, and it was lucky that he smartly called Feng Yi earlier. Otherwise, it would undoubtedly be him lying on the ground now.
Assistant Zhang opened the car door and got out, looking at Feng Yi with admiration: "Impressive, President Feng."
"Stop sucking up. Do you know who sent them?"
Feng Yi wiped the blood from the back of his hand and took a cigarette pack out of his pants pocket, pulling one out to light.
Assistant Zhang pondered for a moment, and the threats Lu Jingchen made to him at the company this morning flashed in his mind, telling him to be careful walking at night—sure enough, it was late at night now.
