Mo Zicheng had been pampered and highly valued within his family, so he had developed a proud and unruly personality.
He respected no one, looked down on everyone, and thought no one was worthy of his regard.
Even his peers feared him and dared not speak to him.
He spoke harshly too, always insulting this person and cursing that one, with nothing pleasant ever coming out of his mouth.
Zhao Ritian hated people who spoke harshly most of all. He could not tolerate even the slightest offense to his ears.
If Mo Zicheng had said even one decent thing, these two would never have come to blows.
But right now, something was wrong with Mo Zicheng...
Ming Disha had drugged his tea!
The drug was called Human Gatling!
Just listen to that name—Human Gatling...
Well...
Mo Zicheng was highly skilled, but martial arts depended most heavily on qi.
Chinese martial arts emphasized using qi to generate force, turning qi into strength.
What ordinary person could split mountains and shatter rocks, or become invulnerable to blades and spears? It was all thanks to qi.
But if you kept leaking qi... then there was nothing more to discuss.
Of the three—essence, qi, and spirit—if you could not retain the most important thing and it kept leaking out, there was no remedy for that.
When Mo Zicheng gathered qi to defend, one fart leaked his qi away, and his arms immediately lost their strength.
Zhao Ritian sent him flying into the wall with a single slap.
When Mo Zicheng gathered qi to attack, one fart leaked his qi away, and his strike became nothing more than a human fist powered by muscles and bones.
He punched Zhao Ritian in the chest, but Zhao Ritian did not even sway. One slap from Zhao Ritian