Actually, Yang Yong had not held out much hope for anyone else's suggestions.
But Mang Dabiao was different.
This snake was far too mysterious.
From the moment they entered the Ghost Domain until now, what it had displayed went far beyond Yang Yong's understanding.
So, when everyone was at a loss, Yang Yong's gaze still drifted involuntarily toward this hooligan of a snake.
But somehow, this guy still had not sobered up after all this time.
Yang Yong smacked it once. No response.
He smacked it again. Still no response.
His blows grew harder and harder, going from pats to slaps, then from slaps to full swings.
By the end, Yang Yong was practically hitting it with all his strength...
But Mang Dabiao hung limply from his hand like a thick, drunken hemp rope, without so much as lifting an eyelid.
Yang Yong even had the absurd impression that even if he put every last ounce of strength into it, he would only be scratching this snake's itch.
Fuck.
He cursed inwardly, but his hand did not stop.
Even though he knew it was useless.
Even though he knew this bastard would not wake up even if he slapped until his hand swelled.
He simply could not stop.
Because aside from this, he truly had no idea what else to do.
Beside him, Wang Ying knitted her brows, her eyes full of thought.
Even Zheng Xiaofeng frowned, a rare sight.
This man, who had always let his fists do the talking, was actually using his brain...
That made Yang Yong feel that things might truly have gotten very bad.
Xiao Xuan, Xiao Wei, and the middle-aged man were racking their brains too.
But Yang Yong took one look and withdrew his gaze.
The bewilderment on their faces was all too