At this moment, Yang Fan and Zhao Jianfeng stood facing each other in the courtyard.
Honestly, Zhao Jianfeng had little interest in this unknown figure.
He had already defeated Han Yu and even defeated Han Baitong, a master of the Seventh Layer of the True Essence Realm. Defeating this small fry brought him no sense of achievement.
It's like a chess master defeating an equally matched opponent, which is infinitely glorious. But winning against a lousy player brings no sense of accomplishment and only disgust.
"Yang Fan, since you dare to step forward, let's not waste time, let's start." Zhao Jianfeng said to Yang Fan.
Yang Fan stood there with a calm expression looking at him: "I think so too."
"Come on." Zhao Jianfeng, already impatient, was ready to quickly settle this brat and finish it sooner.
The ultimate speed rushed in, with a palm fiercely blasting out.
Only a phantom was seen swaying past, a swing missed. Where Yang Fan had stood, the person was already gone.
