The next weekend.
The martial arts school finished their morning exercises early in the morning. However, the owner, Yang Jie, was not in the martial arts school these few days. Eldest Senior Brother, Yang Xiaowen, was in charge of all matters.
At the dining table in the dining room, everyone gathered for breakfast. The atmosphere was inexplicably funny.
Everyone was sitting in their seats with chopsticks in their hands, but no one was eating. Everyone's gaze landed on one focus, and that was Lin Yi's hand.
Raising his chopsticks shakily, Lin Yi picked up a pickled vegetable with difficulty and shakily put it into his mouth. When his arm bent, he frowned in pain, as if he was wearing a prosthesis.
Lin Yi shivered, and his hand cramped. It hurt so much that he immediately gasped, and the pickled vegetable fell into the bowl in front of him.
Senior Sister Qi Wei couldn't help but frown and ask with concern, "Junior Brother, are you okay?"
