"This is so infuriating! It's not like I've been mooching off their rice just because I'm poor!"
In the Silver Tea Stall on Dashi Street, a young man gripped the newspaper tightly, his veins bulging. A companion beside him advised, "Come on, they're not specifically targeting you, and what's in the paper is actually true..."
"How is it true?"
"Rich kids are indeed stronger than those from normal families like us," the companion sighed, "While we were playing in the mud, they were already learning under famous teachers; while we were figuring out Combat Techniques, they had training guidance from Yang Wu officials; while we scrambled for three meals a day, they might have already started taking over the business; we could only eat corn bread, while they dined on gourmet meals three times a day..."
"There's a sentence in Mr. Wu's rebuttal that I very much agree with: If life is a race, many of us lost at the starting line."
