Xiong Jie and the others stood behind Jiang Che, staring in shock at everything before them. When Jiang Che stepped forward just now, none of them managed to stop him in time.
They hadn't even gotten the words out to beg Leng Feng for help, yet Long Yun was already sent flying by a single punch from Jiang Che?
In the distance, Long Yun's sleeve on the arm he used to punch with was shredded, and his once immaculate tunic was torn and tattered.
Bits of shattered stone were embedded in his back, droplets of fresh blood dripping down behind him.
Jiang Che was speaking, and many people shifted their gaze to him. Compared to Long Yun, his condition couldn't be better—practically flawless.
The muddy ground was littered with all kinds of marks, and even though some were smoothed by the gust from the punch, you could still see the jagged scars left behind—traces of where Long Yun was sent flying.
