Wen Yu's figure was slim and tall, standing there holding her wrist without moving. Even though he was basically alone, his figure remained perfectly straight.
He slightly raised his chin, his clear eyes devoid of any warmth, as his lips moved slightly:
"What, want to fight?"
There was not the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The scary thing was, he even exuded a faint killing intent, as if some emotions had been suppressed for a long time.
The group of people opposite exchanged a glance, and when they looked back at him, they showed no pretense of politeness.
The previously handsome boy was the first to swing a punch, and Wen Yu did not dodge. Just as the fist was about to strike his face, he suddenly raised his hand, his palm enveloping the boy's fist.
Gripping it tightly.
