Dong Yemao, sent flying by a single palm strike, was completely unable to stop in mid-air. His clothes shattered into pieces, and his skin was covered in cracks, from which fresh blood continuously spilled out.
After somersaulting backward for several hundred meters, Dong Yemao finally managed to halt his body in mid-air. He immediately took out a long shirt from his storage ring and put it on, feeling the scorching pain on every inch of his skin. His Blood Qi roiled within him, and his eyes, filled with a gloomy light, were tightly fixed on Shen Feng.
Dong Yemao breathed rapidly in anger, his arms trembling slightly. His skin swelled up completely, and a mighty flow of Spiritual Energy surged beneath it.
To be sent flying by a slap from a junior of the secular world, and one who was only at the Foundation Establishment Stage in Cultivation, was utterly unbearable for him.
