Two slaps landed on the face.
Yan Rui's face swelled up, his teeth loosened, and a trace of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
But there was no anger on his face.
Instead, he was very frightened.
"Just now, the young man who hit me with a wooden stick, please step forward."
Ye Xuan said in a deep voice, expressionless.
Immediately, he took the iron baton from the dazed Yan Rui's hand.
"What do you want to do?"
The yellow-haired youth reluctantly stepped forward, timidly.
"Ah, of course, it's to talk to you about life. Nowadays, young people learn to act tough before they're fully grown. If you want to act tough, go ahead, but do it with some finesse and aesthetic sense."
