After Lin Miao left, inside Qingyu Hall.
"Mr. Hu, how is it?" The young master anxiously asked Hu An, who had been diagnosing the injuries of the four wounded protectors.
Earlier, he was quite frightened, his face pale. If Lin Miao had targeted him, he might have ended up just like the protectors.
Hu An, in his forties, younger than Sun Simiao by quite a bit, had very thin lips, giving him a "mean and unkind" impression.
Furrowing his eyebrows as he examined everyone's injuries, he said, "Young master, the one who injured Chen Qiang and the others was really just a young boy?"
"Yes, we all saw it with our own eyes."
"If he really was a young boy, then the technique and force he used were indeed extremely precise, allowing him to instantly incapacitate you while still showing mercy, not causing you any severe injuries, merely teaching you a lesson," Mr. Hu analyzed.
"How is that possible, Mr. Hu, are you joking with us?" Chen Qiang asked in shock.
