This kind of smiling eyes, faintly describing his words of opening his arms, made the area bumpy and generally cold. The feeling of a moldy heart prompted him to quickly turn around, extend his arm to his brother behind him, and calmly said, "Break it, my hand."
"This..."
My brother had no courage to start, his heart was uneasy. He kept pacing back and forth between Ye Fengsheng and his brother.
"Fight!"
Another shout, the brother was suddenly caught off guard, even the steel pipe in his hand couldn't speak, and it fell to the ground with a crisp metallic sound.
At the same time, a melodious whistle slowly reached Ye Fengsheng's ears, making him frown slightly.
If not for a word, he knew the alarm call was made by a group. They looked everywhere on the table. Now he worried he would rush to work.
