Ouyang Xiaosan was not shaken by Han Sen's words. staring at Han Sen, he was making his judgment based on his ability and experience.
There was no doubt that this was a white fist. Ouyang Xiaosan thought it was simply impossible to be a black fist.
"Verbal attacks would not work on me. This punch was not provocative at all, and would never be a black fist." Ouyang Xiaosan did not even move, calmly watching Han Sen's fist approaching.
Like Han Sen, he did not even try to block it with his hands, because he was confident that this was a white fist.
Since Han Sen did not really use his strength, his fist would stop when it got close to his face.
Deep in his thoughts, Ouyang suddenly felt a soreness in his nose. And then he fell back involuntarily before he sat on the ground.
"How could it be a black fist?" Ignoring his nosebleed, Ouyang looked blankly at Han Sen.
Han Sen offered tissues to Ouyang, and said with a smile, "I told you so."
