The drunk lunged forward after a missed kick, his body unsteady, and within a second he was about to faceplant.
Qin Hao thought about going to help him, but then reconsidered: If I go to help this guy, wouldn't I be inviting trouble? Forget it, he's just a drunkard, why should I bother?
He stood still, arms crossed, watching the spectacle.
Thud!
The drunk fell to the ground, his forehead bleeding from the impact.
Pain brought clarity, and the drunk seemed a bit more sober. He got up, squinting at Qin Hao in a half-daze, then suddenly his expression turned angry: "Xu Ruochao, you dare appear before me again!"
Qin Hao replied, bewildered: "Which eye of yours sees that I'm Xu Ruochao?"
While speaking, he kept his eyes on the drunk, noting his rather delicate features.
What a pity, he seemed like a young heartthrob, why on earth would he choose to become a drunk?
Feeling a sense of regret, Qin Hao suddenly sensed something amiss.
