She and Zheng Xiu looked at each other, and both could see a hint of exasperated amusement in the other's eyes.
One could only imagine the complex emotions Feng Bei was feeling at this moment.
She, the great Upper Three, had actually been robbed of her waist token by this band of street punks.
"Brother Zheng," Feng Bei said, lowering her head and gritting her teeth.
"I get it. This is a secret." Zheng Xiu suppressed a laugh and walked toward the leading youth. "Don't stoop to their level; they're just kids. I'll go talk some sense into them."
A few breaths later.
Zheng Xiu had easily taken them all down.
The leading youth, who had been the loudest and fiercest in his taunts, was now bruised and swollen, pinned under Zheng Xiu's foot.
Despite the beating, the youth still glared fiercely at Zheng Xiu and spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the ground.
