Zhiming, the son of the agritainment owner, was pinned to the ground by several young men. The snake basket he always carried around was overturned, and when Yu Minglang approached, he intervened to stop the violence.
"Stop!"
Zhiming curled up on the ground, holding his head, while Qian ran over and squatted down to ask him.
"Are you okay?"
Zhiming didn't answer, just held his head, his shoulders trembling.
"Who are you?" The young men gave Yu Minglang sidelong glances. Judging by their attire, they seemed to be staff from other agritainment places in the area. One of them was wearing a white apron covered in oil stains.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is we're all from the same village. We should talk things out instead of resorting to violence."
Yu Minglang's words didn't stop their violent actions. The leader sneered and pointed at the twitching Zhiming on the ground, mocking him.
