Zhong Tianyi's arm emitted a cracking sound— the noise of broken bones. He seemed like a cannonball as Song Yuhan's punch sent him flying away, while Song Yuhan maintained her arm extended straight out with her fist forward.
The entire hall fell into an eerily silence, apart from the sound of tables tipping over and the shattering of cups and plates on the floor. No one made a sound, all staring in disbelief at the inconceivable scene that had just unfolded.
Zhong Tianyi lay on the ground, vomiting mouthfuls of fresh blood, his head spinning, and the arm he had just used to punch now broken in two, hanging limply over his shoulder, making him look both pained and pathetic.
Behind Song Yuhan, Ye Wudao's face was a picture of ferocity. He had been patient with this Zhong Tianyi long enough. This guy simply didn't know what was good for him, acting as if Ye Wudao lacked any temper.
