Song Yun bid farewell to the elder brother of the migrant workers and planned to check on the progress at Liyu Pavilion.
As soon as he stepped into the district of the City God Temple, seven or eight honest-looking men dressed in camouflage outfits surrounded him.
Song Yun's brow furrowed, though these people seemed very docile, as if they had spent a lifetime toiling in the soil, the occasional sharpness and ferocity in their eyes couldn't deceive anyone.
These men adjusted their course as they walked, intentionally leading Song Yun towards a more secluded area.
Song Yun actually was curious to see what these people were up to, so he naively followed them.
"Could you gentlemen please make way?"
At the moment, Song Yun was acting like a college student, his eyes filled with timidity and shyness.
An elderly man behind Song Yun placed a hand on his shoulder and said ominously, "Young man, I heard you're quite wealthy, could you lend us a little?"
