Ji Huan had barely swung her fist halfway before Guan Shan's large hand enveloped it.
She understood that martial artists inevitably developed conditioned reflexes.
But understanding was one thing; it did nothing to quell her anger.
After his reflexive action, Guan Shan stared into Ji Huan's eyes, which were practically shooting fire, and finally realized she hadn't been trying to hug him.
He paused, then let go.
"Go on."
Her attack had been thwarted before it even began. How could she possibly swing her fist now?
So she should just let it go? In his dreams!
Thoroughly incensed, Ji Huan kicked him hard in the shin.
After the kick, Guan Shan didn't move an inch, but her own foot throbbed with pain.
She grit her teeth to keep from wincing, but she couldn't hide it from Guan Shan.
He was about to say something when he noticed she was only wearing thin slippers. He frowned. "The snow is deep. Hurry back inside."
Without a word, Ji Huan turned and walked away.
