The itinerant trader blinked, withdrew his gaze, and turned to Wang Anfeng, lowering his voice:
"Brother, keep your voice down."
"Wait, I'll get you some later. I brought some. It's the Double Ninth Festival today, how could I not bring it?"
"Top-quality chrysanthemum wine, I'll give it to you for a cheaper price."
"That sounds good."
Wang Anfeng put the last piece of fried bread into his mouth, the crispy outer layer, the soft interior, his teeth finally encountered the tender pickled vegetable threads, making a light cracking sound, the taste was exquisite.
Such sounds are usually negligible, but amidst the current atmosphere filled with awe and fear, it was exceedingly noticeable and jarring. The red-clothed youth was enjoying this respect, but upon hearing such a cacophony, he frowned slightly.
He then turned his head towards the direction of the sound and saw Wang Anfeng, seemingly unaware of any incident, slowly eating the coarse food in his hand.
