Lin Fan was backed into a corner—literally and figuratively.
Three hostile disciples surrounded him, voices rising, postures aggressive.
His hands were already clenched, ready to fight.
Bruised from earlier, he didn't care.
He wasn't about to let anyone push him around.
But just before he lunged in, he saw salvation.
Or at least… a fat silhouette waddling into view.
Lin Fan's eyes lit up:
'Perfect!'
Without a second thought, he raised his arm and dramatically pointed toward the figure now peeking around the corner.
"You want to mess with me? Then you have to mess with us!" Lin Fan shouted loud enough to shake dust from the bricks.
All three bullies blinked, momentarily stunned.
Their heads slowly turned to follow Lin Fan's outstretched finger.
Standing there was a very confused, very round, Zhao Chun.
"…Me?" Zhao Chun asked, pointing at himself with a stunned expression.
His eyes darted from Lin Fan to the three goons and back again.
