"What business is it of yours whether I go or not?" Ye Qingchen had no desire to waste words on these nobodies, but they seemed to have a bone to pick with him.
"Heh, do you have any idea who we are? How dare you speak to us like that!" the leader of the group said, walking up to Ye Qingchen with a swagger.
Ye Qingchen looked at the short, red-haired young man before him. A Third-rank Martial Emperor. Where did he get the confidence to block my path?
Without hesitation, Ye Qingchen shot a fierce palm strike toward the red-haired youth's face. The red-haired youth intended to block the attack, but his expression changed drastically when he felt the pressure emanating from Ye Qingchen. "You!"
He scrambled into a defensive stance out of shock, but in the next second, Ye Qingchen withdrew his hand.
