Judging from Nangong Yao's haughty smirk and her maids' familiarity with which they charged at Wang Jingyuan, with their sleeves rolled up and fists raised, it seemed that this was not the first time Nangong Yao was using brute force to bully someone into submission. But never in a million years did she think that Wang Jingyuan knew how to fight back, much less that she was a top-tier martial artist.
Pow! Pow! Smack! With each crisp sound of a hit connecting with flesh, a maid was sent toppling into the chrysanthemum bushes or onto the stone garden path. High-pitched screams of distress accompanied these falls.
Thirty seconds later, the brawl was over. Wang Jingyuan did not even budge from where she stood. She surveyed the scene with satisfaction. "That's it? So lame."
