Brother Cheng was unlike Ma Xu. He was a martial arts expert, so he naturally noticed Zhang Xiaohua's movements. Moreover, the Pill Division people had just told him that Zhang Xiaohua had some strength. Thus, the moment Zhang Xiaohua raised his hand, he reacted at once, lifting his arm to block it.
Who would have thought that Zhang Xiaohua paid no heed to his movement at all? His palm continued unchanged, sweeping straight toward him. Brother Cheng was delighted. Zhang Xiaohua was tall and thin—how could he possibly have greater strength than him? Yet the instant his arm touched Zhang Xiaohua's hand, an incomparably tremendous force came crashing over. It simply shoved his arm aside, and before he could make another move, that hand had already slapped across his mouth.
"Ow!" Brother Cheng was terrified. If that force landed solidly, wouldn't half his face go flying? Amid his panic, Zhang Xiaohua's palm landed squarely across his mouth.
Brother Cheng heard a crisp smack, yet did not feel much pain in his mouth. Instinctively, he covered it with his free hand. At that moment, his mouth was completely numb. Feeling something inside it, he opened his mouth and spat. With several dull clinks, a number of yellowed teeth fell to the floor. Then blood began streaming through the hand Brother Cheng had pressed over his mouth!
Zhang Xiaohua snorted and reached into Brother Cheng's hand, taking back the gold leaves he had just seized. He weighed them in his palm and said, "Brother Cheng, what fine handiwork. This must be called practice making perfect, right? There should be about fifty taels of gold here. You heard them say it earlier too: this young master is most fair. If you make me eat, I'll make you eat; even half a mouthful extra