Huang Zhijun kicked the newcomer's foot and felt as if she had kicked a block of iron; her bone snapped instantly.
She collapsed to the ground in a moment, large beads of sweat rolling down her powdered face.
"What are you waiting for, take him down!"
The person appeared amidst the mist, vaguely discernible, not quite clear, but it was faintly visible that he was wearing the most common novice robe of Taichang Temple.
A mere young monk, daring to meddle in the affairs of the daughter of Chief of Staff.
Only Xin Lin, upon hearing the chant of "Amitabha," twitched her eyelids and muttered to herself, wondering why the voice sounded somewhat familiar.
The Protectors beside her immediately stepped forward, shouting.
"Where did this blind bald donkey come from! How dare you offend our young miss!"
They charged forward.
The Protectors of the Huang Residence were quite strong in their own right, each one of them at least a martial master.
