Chen Sheng slowly lowered his hand, the calm yet undeniable gesture immediately silencing the crowd's frenzied cheers and adulation.
His gaze then turned to the tea stall owner, huddled and trembling in a corner of the ruins, too frightened to lift his head.
The brief but intense melee had already wrecked the humble tea stall, leaving shattered tables and chairs, and cookware scattered across the ground.
The poor owner was scared witless, his face ashen. He lay prostrate on the ground, barely daring to breathe.
"Get up and speak, sir."
Chen Sheng's voice was calm as he ordered his men to help the owner to his feet.
Though he acted ruthlessly, showing no mercy to his enemies and often wiping out entire clans, he had his own code. He would never needlessly oppress commoners who were just struggling to get by.
"How much is your stall worth? I will compensate you in full for any damages caused by the fight."
