Chen Yanchao was embarrassingly helped out of the hot pot restaurant and into a car, his face alternating between shades of purple and black, his expression gloomy to the extreme.
At that moment, his face was as swollen as a pig's head, covered in blood, and even several teeth had already fallen out; he was a complete mess.
Thinking back to the way Ye Chen had humiliated him, Chen Yanchao trembled with rage, a suffocating qi rising from within his heart, and with a sweet taste in his throat, he spat out another mouthful of blood.
"Young Master Chen, are you okay?"
A lackey, with a worried look on his face, spoke up.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Chen Yanchao backhanded him across the face.
With a crisp smack, the lackey was caught off guard and sent sprawling to the ground.
Knowing that Chen Yanchao was enraged, the lackey covered his face, looking aggrieved as he silently stood up from the ground, daring not to say another word.
