Rain stood quietly, his hands behind his back, his blue robe fluttering gently in the breeze. In front of him, Hu Yong lay in a miserable state, blood trickling from his mouth as he stared up in terror.
The contrast between the two was stark—Rain, serene and composed, exuding a calm elegance; Hu Yong, battered, defeated, and humiliated.
"Auntie, how much money do we owe the Hu family?" Rain's voice was calm, almost indifferent.
Hu Yong struggled to breathe, his chest still reeling from the impact. The mighty Vajra Fist, even in its unpolished state, had struck him with the force of a raging bull. Two moves—just two—and he was reduced to this.
Xu Luping's voice trembled slightly as she answered. "Thirty taels of gold… including interest."
