Amid the roar, Fang Donghuan's expression did not change, but panic stirred in his heart.
They had exchanged only one move, and Pan Long had already injured him.
He could clearly feel how hard the back of his right hand had struck his nose. A dull pain throbbed inside it; the blow had probably broken it.
What should I do?
Fortunately, he was an old hand in the Martial World. Thinking quickly, he covered his mouth and nose and gave two soft coughs.
That let him disguise the movement of his right hand as an attempt to cover his mouth.
People of the Martial World rarely covered their mouths when they coughed, but he could not worry about that now—he certainly could not let anyone see his broken nose bleeding!
In that brief moment of concealment, he sent his True Qi surging and froze the slightly sticky blood inside his nose, ensuring it would not flow out.
Only then did he catch his breath and feel a little steadier.
"Young people certainly have spirit," he said with the air of a seasoned elder. "But spirit alone isn't enough to travel the Martial World!"
His disguise had worked so well that no one noticed his momentary lapse. Even Pan Long, who had been watching him closely, merely thought the Copper Coin Dart had shaken his True Qi and made him cough twice.
High above the clouds, however, someone burst out laughing.
"Old Lion, were the people of You Province born actors? What a performance—so lifelike! If I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have thought he really was just coughing, not that his own hand had smacked him in the nose," Bi Lingkong said, laughing helplessly.
"I remember Wen Chao saying more than once that people from the Northeast were good at