Jing Xiangyang slammed the table and stood up, "Lin Junyang, who are you calling filthy? Do you believe I'll use my fists the size of sandbags to have a good chat about life with you?"
Lin Junyang stuffed the half bun in his hand into his mouth, spread his fingers and made a fist in mid-air, producing a creaking sound, as if physically demonstrating that he could chat about life and ideals with his sandbag-sized fists anytime.
Finally, he leisurely picked up an egg and started peeling it, "Sister Su, could you please get me a bowl of congee?"
Jing Xiangyang stood there, feeling a bit at a loss in the face of the other man's disregard, and finally, sat back down dejectedly, "Xiao Xiao goddess, let's keep eating and ignore him."
He's a scholar, and unlike these rough soldiers who only know how to fight all day long, he absolutely refuses to admit that he was intimidated by Lin Junyang's presence.
