A steel dart, carried by the fierce wind, struck Chen Baichuan's forehead with a loud thud, like the resounding drum of war.
The impact left him dizzy, his vision darkened, and he almost fell. Crimson blood trickled down his cheek.
Xu Xiangbei hadn't used his inner strength, so Chen Baichuan only had a scalp wound without any bone damage.
He felt dizzy, striving to stabilize himself and not fall. He pointed at Xu Xiangbei and said, "You, you're not playing by the rules."
Xu Xiangbei, with a sly grin, replied, "Oh no, hit your head, huh? I'm a doctor; do you need me to patch you up?"
Chen Ban City quickly supported his dad, Chen Baichuan, wiping the blood from his forehead: "Dad, are you okay?"
The wound was deep, and the blood wouldn't stop for a while, covering his face. Ouyang Yufei tossed over two white towels, and soon Chen Baichuan transformed from an arrogant ancient martial artist to a towel-topped Shaanxi old man.
