Xizeer's face still showed no expression, but his aura instantly changed, and the look in his eyes turned disgusted and indifferent.
He looked at that hand with disgust. If he had Yousheng's strength, he would have broken that hand by now, regardless of whether it belonged to a child.
The icy aura from Xizeer made Little Fatty shiver, but his chubby face still had scratches from being scraped by leaves. He was fat and sweated a lot, and the sweat seeped into his wounds, making them hurt and itch. At home, he was the little bully, and he couldn't stand being ignored, especially since he felt that if Xizeer hadn't dodged, he wouldn't have stumbled into the flower bushes and scratched his face.
He grabbed Xizeer's sleeve and angrily demanded, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
Little Fatty was not very old, only about six or seven, similar to Xizeer's age, but his tone was overbearing and hard to like.
Xizeer coldly said, "Let go."
