"Boss, you and the junior sister can go out now, leave this to us brothers," said Hui Yi.
Xiao Feng was naturally pleased and supported Hua Ling as they walked out of the ward, watching the battle inside from the doorway.
The battle between the Martial Monks and Uesugi Yumi left a deep impression on him earlier.
Back then, eighteen people formed a formation, trampling on shoulders as they overwhelmed their opponent.
But now, given the height from the ceiling to the floor in the ward, such formations are clearly impossible, how will the Martial Monks handle this?
Hui Yi waved his hand, and the other seventeen people reflexively dispersed like geese spreading their wings, surrounding the old man.
"Lay down your butcher knife and become a Buddha!" Hui Yi habitually advised, "I hope you stop here, benefactor."
The old man remained silent, threw the Eight Trigrams Mirror, and then took out a handful of soybeans from a cloth bag and scattered them on the floor.
