The elderly man who had been standing beside Miao Yue'e suddenly appeared in front of Lu Shibing's wheelchair. Without any visible movements, there was a muffled boom, and Xiao Li was sent flying back, stumbling five or six steps before regaining his balance.
"How is it?" Xiao Ming asked.
"I'm fine," Xiao Li quickly took a couple of breaths and said, "He pulled his punches."
"Young man," the elder spoke up, "this place is already a river of blood, with severed limbs everywhere. Why must you still strike so mercilessly?"
"Ha!" Xiao Ming rolled his eyes, "Old man, you're not going to start preaching morality like that old codger surnamed Tang just now, are you?
When Lu Shibing ordered the live burial of a child not even ten years old, you didn't jump out to call it merciless. But when I just want to make a disabled person a bit more disabled, you can't stand it?
