Yun Zuiyue had turned a pasty white, trembling with anger. Yun Yang turned and said calmly, “According to what General Zhao had said, does that mean everyone will have to give in and give way wherever General Zhao goes?”

Zhao Binglong’s eyes squinted dangerously. “Child, who are you to speak like that to me, a general?”

Yun Yang said nonchalantly, “Am I not allowed to speak to General Zhao if I am of no importance?”

One of the four people who followed Zhao Binglong in, his janissaries, stepped forward and chided loudly, “How dare you!”

He raised his hand, aiming a slap towards Yun Yang’s face.

Yun Yang stood still, saying softly, “Take him!”

A silhouette flashed as Fang Mofei, in his long green robes, appeared in front of Yun Yang like a vengeful spirit.

With a stretch of his arm, a loud crack resounded in the room.

Kachak!

The man’s wrist had been broken, twisted by Fang Mofei. With a kick, he was sent rolling out, moaning in agony. Even as he tumbled across, the sound of bre