"Are you Tang Zhong?" The young dragon-man disdainfully stared at Tang Zhong.
"And who are you?" Tang Zhong looked at him.
"My name is Wu Jiang, I'm the son of Wu Liu," the young dragon-man said proudly.
"Then, do you have business with me? If not, please leave me alone," Tang Zhong said.
"I've heard people say that your meridians are all broken, and you're already a cripple," Wu Jiang sneered coldly.
"But what does that have to do with you?" Tang Zhong retorted.
"Not much, I'm just puzzled why a cripple like you comes to the Martial Arts Library so often," Wu Jiang questioned.
"I come when I want, and don't come when I don't—either way, it has nothing to do with you," Tang Zhong countered.
"You..." Wu Jiang heard this, his eyes gradually growing fierce, "I'm now suspicious that you're copying contents from our Martial Arts Library and selling them to others."
