Amidst the conversation, a few people squatting in the distance and smoking walked over with a sneer on their faces.
These individuals were either rolling up their sleeves or taking off their shirts.
Their sole purpose was to display their tattoos.
Feng Lin couldn't help but laugh at this scene; in some places abroad, it was just a very ordinary form of performance art.
In the eyes of certain people in China, it became capital for showing off.
If they didn't show them off, even their words lacked force.
Those standing behind Feng Lin also wanted to speak up, but nobody liked to provoke street thugs.
They all feared trouble.
"Kid, even if I am queue-jumping, it's not your line I'm cutting, what the hell do you count for?"
The buzz-cut man was saying this when he suddenly noticed Tang Qianqian by Feng Lin's side, and immediately broke into a grin, "Little sister, you agree, right?"
"Get lost already, stop embarrassing yourself here."
