Before Han Zongwei could figure out what was happening, a cold draft swept across his back. In an instant, he froze, rooted to the spot. He scanned his surroundings, but there was still no sign of Long Chen.
A terrifying thought surfaced, causing his pupils to constrict. He felt like he was suffocating. Beads of sweat, as large as soybeans, formed on his forehead and dripped to the ground. The robe on his back was already soaked through with cold sweat. A chill ran down his spine.
His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. Snapping back to his senses, he threw a punch behind him!
But in the next second, a large hand clamped down on his fist, stopping it dead. No matter how much strength Han Zongwei used, he couldn't move it an inch.
CRACK!
With a twist of Long Chen's hand, a sharp snap of bone echoed. Han Zongwei's wrist was bent back at a grotesque angle.
"Ahhh!!"
An excruciating wave of pain caused Han Zongwei to scream like a stuck pig.
Long Chen followed up with a slap.
