Originally, there were about fifty or sixty villagers surrounding the Pusha Village police station. Yet, after Qian Cangyi's impromptu speech, the number dropped significantly, diminishing to around twenty.
Even though the crowd had halved, the oppressive feeling it emanated decreased to just a quarter of what it had been before.
The level of trouble had also decreased from causing trouble to simply seeking justice.
Little Drilling Wind walked out of the office. He watched the dwindling number of villagers, then glanced at Qian Cangyi's silhouette, his eyes filled with anticipation, his desire to become Qian's disciple even stronger.
