WHOOSH—
The once-arrogant Zhang Jiyuan was trembling with fear. Seeing his brother beaten to a pulp, he nearly wet his pants.
When he saw Chen Han walking toward him, his legs trembled so much he could barely stand.
BOOM!
His knees buckled, and Zhang Jiyuan dropped to the ground, breaking down into a blubbering mess of tears and snot.
"Young Master Han!"
"I was wrong! Please, spare me… It's my fault! I'm a bastard, a piece of trash! I'm begging you, let me go… Just treat me like a fart and let me go. Look at me, I'm covered in my own shit. Hitting me would only dirty your hands!"
Zhang Jiyuan, still on his knees, kowtowed repeatedly.
He slammed his head on the ground—THUD, THUD, THUD—so hard he nearly drew blood. With every violent movement, the shit and piss he'd soiled himself with splattered everywhere.
At the sight of this, Chen Han immediately lost interest.
This guy. A moment ago, he had been unbelievably arrogant, and now here he was, shamelessly groveling.
