Fu Yanlin's strikes were quick and ruthless.
The lackey fell to the ground and didn't get up, crying and begging for mercy through a mix of snot and tears, "Brother, I know I was wrong—please spare me."
As his words fell, Fu Yanlin stepped on his right hand beneath his foot.
Even at a distance of several meters, Wen Sheng felt as if she could hear the sound of bones breaking. The lackey was a tough one, too, and didn't dare to scream out loud, his cheeks turning red from holding it in.
She remembered the time at the cocktail party when Song Zeyuan touched her inappropriately, and in the end, Fu Yanlin beat him severely. Rumor had it that he lay in the hospital for nearly half a month before he recovered.
For quite a long time after that, his temper was much more restrained, and he rarely resorted to violence.
She didn't expect to encounter this kind of situation again tonight.
