"What are you doing?"
The scar-faced youth clung to his body and kept moving backwards, his face full of terror as he stared at Yang Zhen.
The mischievous cat also widened his eyes, looking dumbfounded at Yang Zhen. Surprised, he asked, "Kid, you're not thinking about doing that 'Dragon-yang' stuff here, are you?"
At the cat's words, the scar-faced youth's face darkened, and he yelped before turning to run. He had not taken two steps when he tripped and fell face-first onto the ground. He struggled to get up, only to be kicked back down by Yang Zhen.
"Damn it, why are you running? Is it going to kill you to let me have some fun?"
The scar-faced youth shivered all over, turning back with an almost tear-stricken face, "You... you can't do this!"
Yang Zhen laughed heartily, squatting in front of the scar-faced youth with eager curiosity. Slowly and steadily, he said, "Then you'd better answer my questions thoroughly. What, exactly, is the Golden Fate Ball for?"
