Song Xian only felt that the pain was so clear.
His nose tingled, straight to his eyes.
On the battlefield, he had suffered many injuries, but none that would suddenly make him recall so clearly.
It seemed as though the injury was not only on his body but in his heart.
Making him feel surprised, as if he suddenly lost face without warning.
Before Song Xian could regain his composure, his body once again instinctively counterattacked.
He wouldn't let anyone hit him at such times, especially not squarely on the face.
Song Xian reached out to grab the incoming fist. If it were someone else, they might have twisted the arm directly, but the touch revealed the fist to be soft and delicate, and he was suddenly startled. He immediately changed his twisting to a pulling motion, then released his hand.
With a "bang," Xie Liangchen fell into the nearby pile of medicinal herbs.
