Then, as if looking down on Yang Tian, who lived like a salamander in the master bedroom, he slapped him with one palm, brimming with confidence in his strength. His palm seemed akin to the Buddha's hand, believing Yang Tian—the great monkey—could never escape its clutches.
Bang!
The wooden tables and chairs around Yang Tian instantly shattered into countless pieces under his palm, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The sheer force and impact left everyone present stunned with their mouths agape.
Yet, when they turned their gazes to Yang Tian, their jaws dropped even further.
Yang Tian still sat firmly in place, unmoving. Despite the obliteration of the furniture surrounding him, neither his chair nor the table cloth showed signs of disturbance.
As for Deng Bingqiu's empty-handed strike? It had done absolutely nothing.
Was it a failed performance?
The thought immediately surfaced in everyone's minds.
