The conflict had finally reached Huo Churan.
Huo Churan slammed down his chopsticks and sat upright, his gaze like cold electricity, "Fang Che, are you here to pick a fight?"
"None of your damn business!"
Fang Che replied unapologetically, "I'm just chatting with a fellow villager, what are you? Do you have a right to speak?"
Breathing heavily, Huo Churan slammed the table and stood up, "Are you looking for a fight?"
"You think you can beat me? It's laughable to talk about fighting in my presence."
Fang Che looked at him with disdain, "Healed from the last beating?"
Those words were a killer.
Huo Churan gasped for breath, his eyes blazing, fists clenched tightly.
Fang Che ignored him and turned around, and with a smack, he slapped Wei Zihao, "What, hanging out with Huo Churan and you don't recognize your fellow villager anymore? You backstabbing robber!"
Wei Zihao's face turned pale.
The others had complex expressions that showed understanding.
Backstabbing robber?
