Zheng Yang's expressionless face finally showed a hint of emotion, and the corners of his eyes twitched. He finally understood a little about the young man in front of him. He was clearly a strong fighter, but he pretended to be weak and held a grudge. He had only accidentally glared at the young lady, but the kid had called him an old man in front of so many people, humiliating him.
This kid was really narrow-minded.
Beiting Huang glanced at Xuanyuan Jiu indifferently and snorted. "In the eyes of trash, there's only trash. In the eyes of the strong, there are experts everywhere."
"You, what did you say? Brat, you've occupied my position and you still dare to call me trash? Do you really think you're Ninth Huang? If you're Ninth Huang, I will kneel in front of you and call you grandpa three times!" Xuanyuan Jiu waved his arm and looked indifferent.
