"Yeah, it feels very real."
Ye Qianning murmured. The doubt in her heart was quickly replaced by a surge of excitement, and she raised her hand to attack the old man again.
The old Daoist sensed her approach. His body wanted to dodge, but it was as if he were weighed down by a thousand pounds. He couldn't move. He could only watch helplessly as the little girl's fist landed on his stomach.
He went flying like a kite with a snapped string, sliding a great distance after he landed...
"COUGH..." The old Daoist spat out a mouthful of bright red blood. "Agh! Murder! This is murder!"
Ye Qianning stared at the crimson blood the old Daoist had spat out. 'He's not faking it.' She could actually hurt him. And from the look on his face, he knew he couldn't fight back.
