Wen Yanhui frowned, not understanding Ye Xuan's intentions. He flexed his muscles, trying to break free from Ye Xuan's grip, but for a moment, he actually couldn't escape.
The strength in Ye Xuan's hands was beyond his imagination.
"Brat, don't tell me you think holding onto my fist is enough?"
Wen Yanhui sneered. A golden light suddenly burst from the right fist Ye Xuan was holding. A vortex of Profound Energy erupted from it, slamming into Ye Xuan's chest.
CRACK!
The faint sound of a bone breaking could be heard.
Ye Xuan still held tightly to his right fist, grinning, completely unfazed.
That grin sent an unexplainable chill down Wen Yanhui's spine. Just as he was about to strike again, a powerful sense of crisis suddenly rose in his mind, and at the same time, a sharp gust of wind shot toward the back of his head.
'What is that?'
Startled, Wen Yanhui didn't even look, hastily turning and throwing his left fist out.
