In the assembly hall, there was complete silence; everyone was in disbelief at what they had witnessed.
Yang Huakun, the Ninth Prince of Daojiang Country, a prodigy of this generation, a figure of strength in their eyes, had died just like that?
And it was merely by a single flip of the hand from this member of the Human Clan, snuffed out with a palm strike.
At this moment, Lin Qian, as seen by them, still had his hand resting on the table, appearing calm, as if he had done nothing, and showed no emotional fluctuation despite having just killed Yang Huakun with one palm strike.
In Lin Qian's eyes, it seemed that killing Yang Huakun was no different from squashing an ant.
After completing this act, Lin Qian extended his hand, drawing symbols with soul energy, forming a pattern to order food from the chef.
He had noticed a dish that seemed quite interesting and wanted to give it a try.
This behavior left the others utterly dumbfounded.
