Mo Huaren's lips twitched, but in the end, he gritted his teeth and beckoned to someone behind him. A man walked over with a bag in his hand.
Mo Huaren took the bag and pulled out fifteen roots of thousand-year-old ginseng. "Mr. Bole, this is the deposit."
"Alright, not a problem." Mr. Bole excitedly took the ginsengs.
He now had enough of the thousand-year-old ginseng to trade with Master Batian for the Little Black Knife.
Now that Mr. Bole had accepted the items, it was natural he had to fulfill his obligations.
Turning his head, he yelled at Mo Huasong's side, "What's going on here? I'm Mr. Bole, I wonder if you'll give me some face? You guys should leave first, we'll discuss whatever matter later."
Such was the wisdom of Mr. Bole, he had received thirty roots of thousand-year-old ginseng and then asked the other party to leave first.
As for who was right or wrong next, he didn't care.
