Outside the young man's body, a layer of ethereal celestial light swirled around him, making him seem incredibly radiant, almost resembling a figure from another realm.
Zheng Maoze was sent flying, blood staining the corner of his mouth as he crashed to the ground, letting out painful cries, looking quite a mess. Coupled with his reputation as "Zheng Dazhuang," he definitely did not seem like a figure of higher cultivation.
His consciousness, which had burst forth, twisted as it was burned through by the force of the punch. It was uneven and lacked its former vibrancy, appearing dimmer than before.
His body throbbed with pain; after being hit with a single punch, the sound of his bones cracking was akin to frying beans, lingering for a moment—not just one or two bones were broken. Everyone gasped in shock, the young man's movements were too swift, like a bolt of lightning flashing by.
Qin Ming's celestial light retracted back into his body, his fingers glistening like jade, and he looked exceptionally extraordinary. Had his right fist not still been clenched, one might doubt that such a powerful punch had come from him.