One day later, in the afternoon.
At the West Street entrance.
Inside an ordinary car.
"Gangzi, are you sure you're not joking?"
Mantis Finch was holding a cellphone, asking Gangzi on the other end, "Is Chef Zhang really that terrifying? Like a martial arts master from a film?"
"Why the hell would I lie to you?" Gangzi, who was very familiar with Mantis Finch, replied, "I went to your fight club to practice boxing today and heard people there say you were planning to find Chef Zhang, so I specially called you to be careful!
I'm worried you'll act foolishly like a martial arts fanatic and want to fight my Brother Zhang!"
"I know he's really skilled, and I've crossed hands with him," Mantis Finch still couldn't quite believe it, "But you say he's so powerful that you're like a clay doll in his hands?
I find that hard to imagine.
Because when I sparred with him, he didn't seem as outrageous as you described."
Mantis Finch paused and recalled:
