"Young Master Ming, once everyone is safely settled, we can have a couple of good drinks. I'll organize, and you pay!" Cheng Yong stood next to Zheng Ming, chuckling as he spoke.
"You, always playing the fool, I see you've become too clever. You organize, I pay; you really know how to work the angles. Fine, that's a deal then. You'll be in charge of contacting these brothers from now on, and we'll have a proper drink together someday."
Zheng Ming pointed at Cheng Yong, laughing and scolding him, when suddenly a thought arose in his mind. He casually picked up a stick and started drawing on the ground.
What Zheng Ming wrote were inscriptions, hundreds of symbols that he had memorized out of the more than three thousand inscriptions.
Zheng Ming drew these symbols swiftly, like clouds flowing across the sky. In just a short time, they appeared on the ground.
