The crow only saw a dark figure assaulting him, his watermelon knife yanked by an immense force. His grip loosened, and the knife turned back to slice his own palm, sending bright red blood flying. The center of the palm, where the nerves of pain are particularly concentrated, felt all five fingers being cut by the blade and a heart-wrenching scream burst from his mouth. Unexpectedly, it wasn't over yet. His cheek was struck by Yao Beina's stick, and he flew out like a ragdoll, tumbling twice in the air before thudding down hard. His eyes closed, and he blissfully passed out.
More than thirty hoodlums, with over thirty watermelon knives, ganged up on a woman, but in less than five minutes, all lay on the ground. Some were crippled, some were ruined, some were injured; not a single one could walk away without harm. This was the result of Yao Beina showing restraint. Otherwise, none of them would have survived.
