"What?" Wang Lan looked at Xing Feng in astonishment.
"I surrender!"
WHOOSH—
But Xing Feng lifted his head, looked seriously at Wang Lan, and spoke those three words.
The entire audience let out a collective gasp of surprise; some even unconsciously stood up.
"Surrender? How can you surrender? I paid for a ticket, you know? You're not even going to fight before you give up?"
"Yeah, I voted for you! I wanted to see your Thunder Step, and now you're just giving up?"
"Damn, I bet on you to win, and now you're making me lose money!"
"If you can't beat him, fine, but to just give up without even fighting?"
The uproar from the audience wasn't deafening, but it wasn't quiet either.
Yet, like needles, it pierced the protective barriers and reached Xing Feng's ears. In that moment, his heart was truly wounded.
If one has no heart, one cannot be heartbroken; if a heart is numb, it cannot feel pain.
But Xing Feng had a sudden epiphany.
