"You don't get it. This is called atmosphere. The rich love this stuff. They'll skip a top-tier banquet at a grand restaurant just to hunt for a little eatery in a back alley," the middle-aged man explained proudly, as if recognizing Wu Liangchen made him look good too.
Old Liu, however, didn't listen to their chatter. He just stared in the direction Wu Liangchen had just left, engraving the name "Wu Liangchen" into his heart.
Meanwhile, after resolving this little interlude, Wu Liangchen felt completely refreshed, as if the stifling frustration of the past three days had been swept away.
Don't be fooled; although the gang of hooligans hadn't committed any unforgivable sins, the harm they caused was by no means small.
This was because they preyed on the small vendors at the very bottom of society.
And people like Old Liu had no ability to resist whatsoever; they could only be trampled on.
That was why Wu Liangchen had shown no mercy, punishing them severely.
