"Take me there," Song Changming said as he got up, realizing that the leftovers couldn't be eaten anymore.
On the street, in a bustling district.
A crowd had already gathered, whispering to each other and pointing fingers.
In front of a small stall selling gourd skewers, a young master from the city was miserably lying on the ground, covering one swollen cheek; several family guard-like martial artists lay scattered around, spitting blood continuously.
"You, you dare touch me!"
"Do you know who I am!"
The young master didn't seem very old. Despite being beaten, he kept shouting menacingly, glaring at the people in front of him.
On the other side of the stall stood two white-clad women, along with several dignified swordsmen.
The women had long black hair trailing down to their waists, their faces covered with a thin layer of veils, and their bright eyes showed hints of anger.
