Yuan Chenfeng didn't dare to confront head-on, so he rushed forward with all his might.
If he could rush into the crowd before Zhao Ya and take a few hostages, he might have a chance to survive.
But as fast as he was, Zhao Ya was even faster.
He had just taken a few steps when Zhao Ya was already upon him, raising a fist to strike.
With no other choice, Yuan Chenfeng had to raise his palm to block.
Bang.
A loud bang echoed, and the whole teahouse seemed to tremble.
Yuan Chenfeng let out a stuffy groan, and the hand that met Zhao Ya's fist fell limply, clearly suffering a severe injury.
But this was just the beginning. Before Yuan Chenfeng could catch his breath, Zhao Ya's second punch came crashing in.
In a hurry, Yuan Chenfeng could only muster his other hand to block.
Another loud bang followed.
This time, not only was Yuan Chenfeng's hand broken, but his whole body was jolted back several steps, spewing a mouthful of fresh blood.
