"Which hand?"
He glanced at Yue Xiang, who was momentarily stunned, then gradually regained some presence of mind.
"Right... right hand!"
"Crack!"
As soon as the words were spoken, Ye Qingfeng kicked Diao Wenbing to the ground again, then stomped fiercely on his wrist and elbow.
A crisp sound echoed, accompanied by Diao Wenbing's wretched scream, causing everyone in the office to gasp in shock.
"This..."
No one expected that Ye Qingfeng would not only dare to hit Diao Wenbing but also cripple one of his hands?
"Ah!"
Diao Wenbing screamed and rolled on the floor; he had always lived a pampered life, when had he ever endured such pain? Cold sweat trickled down his face, filled with fear.
Ye Qingfeng stood casually in front of him, as chaotic footsteps came from outside the door—it was over a dozen security guards wielding short batons.
Seeing so many people, Yue Xiang's heart skipped a beat, beginning to worry about Ye Qingfeng.
