Feeling Stifled

Feeling Stifled

Wang Feifan was no ordinary man.

Noticing the commotion behind him, he struck backward with a burst of vital energy.

The splashing blood was blasted aside by the airwave and fell to the ground.

The man's expression changed drastically. Wind seemed to gather beneath his feet as he turned and ran.

He was actually a martial artist!

Wang Feifan gritted his teeth.

But he did not pursue him.

Saving the man came first.

Yet many people failed to understand what had happened.

While he was saving the man, they were already accusing Wang Feifan.

"Why are you hitting people?"

"You made him cough up blood!"

What they saw was someone walking up behind him, followed by Wang Feifan slapping him with one palm.

Blood hit the ground, and the other man fled after being injured.

Sometimes, Wang Feifan truly wanted to kill certain people.

Damn it, would they die if they did not attack him?

They had attacked him without distinguishing black from white. If he had not acted, that blood would have landed on Old Master, and it would have been over.

But he did not argue his case. Instead, he focused even more seriously on breaking the curse.

After a while, Old Master opened his mouth and vomited up a mouthful of vomit mixed with paper ash.

His complexion visibly improved.

Wang Feifan withdrew his power and slowly rose to his feet.

"Old Master, it's done!"

His granddaughter immediately rushed forward and supported Old Master. "Grandpa, are you all right? How do you feel?"

Old Man shook his head. "I'm fine, I'm fine!"

He looked at Wang Feifan. "Thank you for stepping in, young friend. I can never repay this gratitude for saving a life."

Wang Feifan smiled faintly. "It was merely a small effort."

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