He didn't seem to give Sikong Cheng a second glance. After casually striking Shen Cangming away with his palm, he turned and went straight for Wen Buqi.
Wen Buqi's name meant 'unremarkable,' and there truly seemed to be nothing extraordinary about him.
Yet, when faced with Fang Shuwen's palm strike, he didn't even spare it a glance.
He simply threw a punch!
In truth, Wen Buqi's fist and footwork were rather mediocre, utterly ordinary.
His specialty was the saber.
Unfortunately, he had no chance to draw it now.
Under the circumstances, that he could throw a punch at all was a testament to his quick reflexes.
And as that first punch flew, a second followed right behind it.
'Life and death are fated, anyway. He didn't care if his punches landed or if he could kill his opponent…'
While standing on the edge of an abyss or treading on thin ice was perilous, for Wen Buqi, this was his natural state.
