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Zhu Daqi was so enraged that his hair stood on end, and he felt an urge to rush up and kill her.
"Thinking of killing me, are you?" Su Qingyue sighed, "Your imagination is rich, but reality is harsh. Speaking of my hand... My left hand feels quite soft when I touch it with my right, but when it punches someone, it's as hard as iron. Do you know why?"
He shook his head, his eyeballs almost popping out.
"My fists," she said, "are infused with internal energy when I grip them." She clenched her fists, then stretched her fingers, "Don't be fooled by the beauty of my hands, they still hurt a lot when I hit someone. Brother Zhu, do you want to keep taking punches, or will you step aside and let me pass?"
"You!" His eyes turned red with anger. Seeing her dismissive attitude, he felt an indescribable chill, as if the beautiful woman in front of him was not a beautiful woman but a murderous ghost.
He was inexplicably scared.
This woman seemed to be even more ruthless than Chuan.