Toppling at Leng Kaicheng's feet, Su Wenwu's face was as pale as death, his mind in complete chaos, his whole being in a state of stupefaction. He couldn't comprehend how he had been defeated by his opponent.
Today was more than just a defeat; he had lost all face. To be in such a sorry state in front of an audience was unbearable.
Leng Kaicheng looked at the silent hall, utterly bewildered. Could someone actually dare to thrash Su Wenwu like this during Old Master Su's birthday celebration?
Leng Chuan, following his father, viewed the fallen Su Wenwu, his mouth smeared with blood, and shuddered inside. Without guessing, he knew who was responsible. No one aside from that madman could have done this.
He surreptitiously glanced around the hall, and sure enough, he easily spotted the menacing figure of Ling Fan.
