However, the man turned a deaf ear to his ears, and slowly sat up from the ground holding Su Kui's wrists, and leisurely moved away the broken hair that blocked his vision.
A wheat-colored skin and a stern face with tough facial features appeared.
Mo Zhu exclaimed, and unconsciously let go of the man's hand, his cheeks burning red.
She saw that this person was wearing black clothes and black trousers. Although it was not sloppy, it did not look like normal people should. A stern face with a red heartbeat.
"Deng disciple, don't let go!" Su Kui struggled for a long time, panting anxiously, and glared beautiful eyes.
The man listened silently, squinting his eyes slightly, and slowly let go of her hand when the guard beside him was about to draw the knife.
The mother behind me quickly trot up to support Su Kui, took her back, and pointed at the guards and cursed, "I can't make it if I have eaten the body pill one by one! Come on, let's take this as a disciple. Take it down!" She sipped at the man on the ground, her old face full of anger.
"Mother Chen, I'm fine." Su Kui held her hand in a shock, and gave a strong smile and comforted her. Then he stopped the guards who had sharpened their knives, and he hesitated to take two steps forward, dragged a purse with a few silver coins from his waist and threw it to him, "Since you are injured, go to the hospital to have a look. Don't lie down on the road. Central."
After that, without looking at his expression, he said lightly, "Mo Zhu, Grandma Chen, let's go."
"Hurry the carriage to the side. You can probably pass it. Don't hurt anyone."
"Yes, miss." The little guards replied, clasping their fists slightly.
Su Kui took the lead to step onto the carriage, Mo Zhu followed closely, and carefully helped her up. He turned his head and glared at the man who was still sitting in the same place, coldly snorted, "Bah! As a disciple!"
A group of people mounted on their horses, mounted on a carriage, and hurriedly splashed the dust into the sky, and ran towards Chaoyang City.
The man's eyes, like a falcon, followed the plain-green carriage in the middle until the dust soared and blocked his sight. He then regained his consciousness and picked up the purse by his feet.
It was a concubine-colored satin purse with a budding lotus embroidered on it. He squeezed his rough palm, and he could detect that there was still a lot of silver in it.
He slowly raised the corners of his lips, gathered his fingers, and held the purse into his palm. After a while, he stuffed the purse into his arms.
His ears moved slightly, and he drank coldly, "Isn't it enough? Get out!"
In response, two men, one fat and one thin, rolled out from the back of the mountain. Both of them were dressed in short black suits identical to those of men, but none of them could look like his heroic iron-blooded tough guy.
The two rolled all the way until they came to the man, and grinningly got up and patted the dust on their bodies, "Boss, is there a wife in our village soon?"
The fat man smiled sly, touched the back of his head, and said in a urn voice: "That little lady looks really good, I think it's good, it's just right for our boss!"
"Boom—"
In the next second, the man who was as big as Roshan was kicked to the ground directly by the man, and then the man casually clapped his hands and stood up from the ground.
He acted as usual, as if the flesh and blood on his left leg turned out, and it was clear that the bone wound did not grow on him.