Even though they had never seen Zhao Lei's father before, the few people watching the screen instantly recognized him.
He was wearing a tank top that had yellowed with age.
He wore a pair of drab, gray trousers, clearly a bit too long, as the cuffs were rolled up several times.
On his feet were a pair of worn-out, dirty sneakers, caked with a layer of mud on the soles.
When Zhao Guanhai rushed forward, he was carrying a water bottle.
It was one of those large plastic bottles that cost only a few bucks.
He tossed the plastic bottle, still containing a small amount of water, to the ground, and his small, thin figure charged forward.
Although small and thin, his strength was astonishing.
Several teachers were shoved aside before they could even react.
The stout man in the middle, mouth slightly agape in surprise, had no time to react before Zhao Guanhai landed a hard punch on him.
