"Bang!"
A dull thud, Qiao Xiaoyi's fist hit Cui Yingzhe's side, precisely between the two ribs.
Time seemed to stop at this moment, neither of them moved, Qiao Xiaoyi because he had exhausted his strength, and Cui Yingzhe due to the pain.
Cold sweat emerged from his forehead, streaming down his face in droplets onto the arena floor.
"What's going on? Why aren't they moving?" A puzzled voice broke the silence in the martial arts hall.
More people expressed their surprise, "Can't be posing, right?"
"Who hit whom exactly?"
"Cui Yingzhe seems to have a problem, look, his face is pale and sweating profusely."
...
Prompted by this voice, everyone's attention shifted to Cui Yingzhe. Indeed, the situation wasn't good; his expression was more than just pale, it was twisted in pain, his mouth trembling but unable to utter a word.
Qiao Xiaoyi took a few breaths, regaining some strength. He straightened his waist and gently pushed against Cui Yingzhe.
