Who on earth was this man?
Zheng Qing lifted the wine bottle with his empty hand and poured it on his own boot. "Ah, my shoes are dirty. Boss Wan, would you help me clean them up? It'd be better if you used your tongue."
Wan Xiang's face turned green: "In your dreams."
Zheng Qing's dagger came an inch closer, a thin line of blood appearing on Wan Xiang's neck. Zheng Qing sneered: "The knife is blind."
"You dare! You're committing murder! Killing means paying with your life."
Zheng Qing laughed as if he'd heard something funny. "Boss Wan, are you joking? How many lives are held in the hands of your Qinglong Association? Do you need me to list them one by one? When in Rome, do as the Romans do - I'll play by the rules of your Qinglong Association."
"Who are you? Aren't you afraid of being an enemy of the Qinglong Association and the Rans? Young man, don't be too arrogant," warned Wan Xiang gravely.
