The reactions at the drinking table were mixed.
Some tried to dissuade him, saying that Yang Jing was no ordinary martial artist these days. He had placed fourth in the military examinations, possessed formidable skills, and had even secured an official post. There was no need to get into a life-or-death struggle with him; it simply wasn't worth the trouble.
However, the majority voiced their strong support, clamoring that they would be there in a heartbeat if he decided to make a move. He was just some upstart kid, after all. What, did he think he could turn the world upside down?
These words filled Shen Lie with satisfaction, and he began to drink even more heavily. Before he knew it, the night had grown deep, and he started his drunken stumble home.
He staggered around the alley corner, drawing closer to his home, still muttering curses. "Yang Jing... you little bastard... Just you wait... I'll... I'll break your damn legs..."
