Behind Ye Xuan, An Lanxiu looked at him but did not speak.
Before Ye Xuan, the man looked Ye Xuan up and down, and then he challenged, "Brat, I suppose you need a s******g!"
Just when his voice fell, the man grabbed his iron stick and slammed toward Ye Xuan violently.
Ye Xuan's right hand was clenched into a fist, above which a surge of Conceptual Battle Skill was condensing.
He launched this punch!
"Sizzle!"
Abruptly, a low Qi explosion sounded!
"Bang!"
As a sound of the explosion, the man retreated dozens of meters with his stick vibrating fiercely. Ye Xuan was also pushed back a dozen meters, and his right hand was shaking slightly.
Opposite Ye Xuan, the man cast a look at his iron stick and then looked toward Ye Xuan. "You are pretty good!"
As soon as he said this,
