A dozen fierce guards.
Wang Youer displayed two sweet dimples, looking extraordinarily charming—a typical little witch.
While Master Long gritted his teeth, as if he had a deep-seated enmity with Qin Feiyang.
The surrounding people kept backing away, fearing they'd get caught in the crossfire.
The atmosphere at the scene was as tense as it could be.
Qin Feiyang and his companion exchanged glances, unable to suppress the raising of their eyebrows.
Young Master Hao looked at those guards and said, "I'm warning you, you'd better not provoke me."
"Arrogant even when facing death?"
Master Long seemed surprised, then instructed the guards, "Go easy on them, don't kill them. I want to play a bit today."
"Alright."
The dozen guards nodded, their faces full of ridicule and mockery.
"So many people with death wishes!"
Young Master Hao's eyes turned icy, and his Saint Prestige roared like a waterfall in all directions.
The dozen guards were instantly confined where they stood.
