"Go? Go where? What about Zhou Fan?" Zhang Lei, who was still carrying Zhou Fan on his back, couldn't help but demand loudly. 'Damn it, is this guy really a friend?'
"Go back where you came from. He's staying here with me. He won't die. Don't you understand?" Feng Shen frowned and shot them an impatient glare, looking as if he'd start throwing punches if they didn't listen.
"You're Boss Feng, right? My name is Fan, and I'm—" Fan forced himself to calm down and tried to state his identity, but Feng Shen cut him off before he could finish.
"Are you incapable of understanding plain language? In my territory, I don't care who you are—you listen to me. If it weren't for Zhou Fan, you'd all be dead already!"
Feng Shen's words were domineering and blunt. From the twitching muscles in his face, it was clear he was struggling to suppress his rage.
Neither Fan nor Zhang Lei were good-tempered people to begin with, and they were about to make a move when Chu Qianqian stopped them.
