The punk with a cigarette in his mouth was getting more and more animated, waving his hand in the air while completely forgetting his other arm was being set by someone else.
He grimaced in pain with a sharp intake of breath and mumbled:
"Ouch, Brother Cheng, take it easy, it really hurts!"
Just moments ago he had the fearless demeanor of a street thug, but now he suddenly softened like a delicate young lady.
His voice was shrill, with a hint of coquettishness, totally unlike before.
Hearing this whiny tone suddenly, Fang Cheng paused his actions, glanced at him with a face full of disdain and speechlessness.
"Bear with it, stop moving around, or don't blame me if it gets messed up permanently."
The few punks nearby laughed on seeing this:
"Brother Fei, Master Fang's Rejuvenating hands are way gentler compared to that assassin, stop howling."
This guy ran off to the countryside to lay low two months ago, and now he's back, still the same old state, no improvement.
