Chapter 19 The Hunting Dogs of the Plateau
At the hospital entrance, Cong Chun, still worried about Duan Mingxiao, asked the driver to follow the taxi in front of them.
This is the scene that Cong Chun saw as soon as he got off the bus and arrived here.
Duan Mingxiao's left leg was in a cast, making it difficult for him to move, but he still held his own against the three people in front of him.
However, the next second, a sharp, cold light flashed through the air as Li Li pulled out a folding knife from his pocket, preparing to strike Duan Mingxiao.
Duan Mingxiao was using a cane, so his movements were much slower than usual. Just as the knife was about to touch the fabric...
A slender, strong wrist suddenly appeared, gripping Li Li's forearm. With a gust of wind, it swiftly dismantled the group's arrogance and their sense of superiority.
Li Li's thick forearm was like a soft branch, allowing Cong Chun to bend it at will.
Cong Chun snapped the opponent's wrist bone backward with a snap, accompanied by a pig-like scream of pain, and the knife fell to the ground instantly.
Cong Chun stood in front of Duan Mingxiao without hesitation.
He looked thin, like a withered leaf about to fall.
In fact, Cong Chun was much stronger than the average boy. He often went to the fields to help his family with farm work.
Later, he worked in a brick kiln for a year, where he not only carried bags of grain on his shoulders, but also sandbags heavier than himself.
Although the group of men in front of him looked tall and strong, they were far less powerful than Cong Chun.
Although the boy's hands were beautifully shaped and long, they were clearly the result of a lot of manual labor, with thin calluses all over his palms.
When exerting force, there are even lean muscles on the arms.
Although Cong Chun was thin, he was not weak.
Li Li winced as he gripped his wrist, cursing under his breath. A fierce glint appeared in his eyes. Where did this brat come from?
However, Cong Chun's fist was like a cold winter wind, landing directly on one of the menacing boys. He was slightly out of breath when he delivered a clean and decisive over-the-shoulder throw.
He dodged quickly, preventing these people from even touching the hem of his clothes.
Dust instantly scattered across the ground, and various unpleasant wails immediately filled the air.
Cong Chun didn't stop, and the boy noticed Li Li's little actions.
The boy stepped forward quickly with his right foot, and in the process, he turned to the side and kicked Li Li in the abdomen as Li Li was about to pick up the knife from the ground. With a thud, Li Li crashed directly into an abandoned iron barrel in the corner.
The next second, Cong Chun kicked the knife on the ground more than twenty meters away.
The boy's temperament completely transformed in that instant; he was like a wild hound, attacking without any pattern, yet exuding a fierce intensity.
Li Li lay on the ground, his neck stiff, his face completely flushed red. He was unwilling to give up and still wanted to go forward.
If he can't beat this brat, does that mean he can't beat the cripple behind him?
However, the metal cane pressed directly against the back of his hand, rotating and grinding it continuously, as if grinding ink.
Duan Mingxiao's face was cold, and a hint of killing intent was brewing in his dark eyes. He clearly remembered that Cong Chun had just grabbed this man's wrist.
That beast got off too easily.
The boy gripped his cane and slammed it down heavily.
"You don't deserve it."
"You're not even qualified to carry my shoes."
Over here, two boys are lying on the ground, howling incessantly.
Cong Chun then dusted himself off and spoke softly to Duan Mingxiao's retreating figure.
"Young Master, are you alright?"
Duan Mingxiao slowly turned around, his deep eyes staring intently at Cong Chun, revealing a complex and unfathomable emotion.
The incident happened suddenly, which surprised him.
I initially thought it was just a country dog, but it turned out to be a hunting dog from the plateau.
"I'm fine... How about you? Are you hurt?"
Under the intense incandescent light, Duan Mingxiao could almost see the fine sweat on Cong Chun's forehead.
Cong Chun shook his head.
Immediately afterwards, Duan Mingxiao looked up at Cong Chun and said something that seemed to make no sense.
"They all say I have a bad temper."
What do you think?
Cong Chun didn't think too much about it, and the boy was slightly out of breath.
Footsteps echoed on the cold ground as Cong Chun walked up to Duan Mingxiao.
She looked up, her bright eyes meeting his, and blurted out without thinking.
“I don’t listen to what they say.”
"I only listen to what the young master says."
Duan Mingxiao lowered his eyes, his gaze falling deeply on the white nape of Cong Chun's neck at the collar.
[Cong Chun, you said it yourself.]
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