Nothing Serious, Just a Little Worn Out

Chen Sican had wanted to say more, but his legs suddenly gave out beneath him. His face went pale, and he dropped straight to his knees. If Jing Hang had not reacted quickly enough to grab his arm, Chen Sican would have had an intimate encounter with the floor.

"What's wrong, man? Weren't you full of life just a second ago? Why do you look like you just went a few hundred rounds in bed?"

Although Jing Hang had lost the sparring match, his sharp tongue seemed to have been infected by Qiao Na. There was a distinctly smug edge to his tone.

"Fuck off. I'm fine, just a little drained. That's why I never use those two soul bones. Once I activate those two Soul Bone Skills, I'll be completely wiped out afterward, guaranteed."

"This won't do. I'll take you somewhere to replenish yourself. Otherwise, when you get home tonight, your wife will think you've been doing something shameful. Look at that face of yours—it's several shades whiter than A4 paper."

With a sweep of his arm, Jing Hang directly teleported Chen Sican elsewhere, leaving the people in the audience staring at one another as though they still had no idea what had happened.

After arriving at the little restaurant jointly run by Jing Hang and Song Yang, Jing Hang shoved Chen Sican into a seat, rolled up his sleeves, and headed into the kitchen.

Chen Sican was somewhat astonished as he looked around the Soul Beast eatery. He had not expected his brother to run such a small restaurant so well. Judging by the flow of customers, the day's revenue could not possibly be low.

Half an hour later, Jing Hang emerged from the back kitchen carrying two large gray trays. He placed them before his brother, handed