At that moment, a large group of people had gathered in the family hall of the Zhang residence.
Sitting at the center was a dignified middle-aged man, accompanied by a young man in his twenties.
These two were Zhang Jianyuan, the current head of the Zhang family, and his son, Zhang Lingtian.
Around them sat a dozen men and women, while opposite them stood a man in his thirties, roaring angrily.
"Big brother, although Lingfeng isn't very capable, he's still your nephew, right? Tell me, should we avenge this injustice or not?" the man shouted.
Zhang Jianyuan rubbed his forehead in frustration and said, "Jiancheng, don't be so hasty. Calm down. I'm not saying we shouldn't avenge Lingfeng, but we need to discuss it first."
"What's there to discuss? He's my only son, and now he's been disabled. How am I supposed to stay calm?" Zhang Jiancheng yelled.
