"Hehe! Patriarch Zhang, you'd better not interfere in the matter between Zhang Buhui and me. I'll settle it personally," Chen Mo said blandly, then released his wrist.
How could the thoughts in the Clan Leader before him possibly be hidden from Chen Mo?
Awkward!
Zhang Li knew that Chen Mo had seen through his little scheme, and he felt both helpless and embarrassed. Looking at the ring of bruising around his wrist, his feelings were difficult to put into words.
With Houtian Layer Ten cultivation, he had once thought he could contend with a Xiantian Master. So what if they were Xiantian? They had been exaggerated into something of a myth. When Zhang Li reached Layer Ten, he had never fought a Xiantian Master, so he naturally assumed that their strength might not be all that great.
Houtian Layer Ten and Xiantian First Order were separated by only a single step. Since he was at Houtian Layer Ten, even if a Xiantian opponent was stronger, he should have had a good chance of running away.
Therefore, when facing Chen Mo, although he was shocked by how young he was, he had not been afraid. He had thought, Even if I can't beat him, can't I still run?
But reality gave him no opportunity at all. The gap between his strength and Chen Mo's was simply too vast. Once his wrist was caught, he had no ability to resist. He exerted every ounce of strength he had, even concentrating all the Qi in his body into his wrist, yet he still could not make it budge in the slightest.
Chen Mo held his wrist with such effortless ease, while Zhang Li himself had not the slightest ability to resist. It chilled his heart. Decades of cultivation had amounted to less than