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... “Smack!”
Zhou Xianming, upon hearing this, could no longer bear it and stared fiercely at Han Wenxin, “You’re talking nonsense! Would Li Yue, a lady with a blind eye, fancy a rough martial artist like you?”
An Jing was also startled by Zhou Xianming’s momentum, pausing with his chopsticks in hand.
But Han Wenxin just frowned, rolled up his sleeves, revealing his thick arms, and retorted, “What’s wrong with a martial artist? I am the sole heir of a three-generation lineage ...
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