The old man's voice gradually echoed above this street.
The youth who made a living by selling candied gourds.
At this moment, his eyes were becoming increasingly bloodshot.
His breathing rhythm was becoming more and more disordered.
His tightly clenched fists, his face as dark as ink.
All of this seemed to be indicating something.
The youth's patience was reaching its limit.
"Old Dingxi, don't push me..."
The youth glared at the old man in front of him, his voice tinged with a grinding anger.
The old man sneered contemptuously, his expression full of mockery as he said, "So what if I push you? If you've got the guts, hit me, on my face, on my body, come on, don't be a coward..."
The youth took a deep breath and still clenched his teeth, "Old thing, think carefully, with one punch of mine... you might really end up heading west."
