Han Ye's face was full of shame, "So, Xiyao, hit me, hit me hard, hit me to death. I will not frown or utter a word of complaint because I deserve it all..."
Before he could finish, Huo Xiyao's fist, wrapped with a gust of wind, swung over.
Caught off guard, Han Ye instinctively relied on years of trained reflexes, tilted his head, and stepped back, narrowly dodging.
Huo Xiyao couldn't help but sneer, "Weren't you not going to frown? Then what are you dodging for?"
With both shame and guilt, Han Ye said, "I'm sorry, Xiyao; I wasn't paying attention. Try again, I promise I won't dodge... cough..."
Again, before he could finish speaking, he was cut off by Huo Xiyao's fist, which made him grunt.
But this time, he indeed did not dodge.
However, one punch was clearly not enough for Huo Xiyao; he followed up with several more.
