Passersby watched the man's actions, their hearts squeezed tight, fearing that he would actually kick the table over.
Shi Yaoguang, however, had no such worries; she just watched with a cold eye as the man kicked the table.
As the man kicked the edge of the table, some people closed their eyes, not wanting to witness the shattering of bottles and jars.
However, an accident happened.
The man's kick did not break the leg of the table.
Instead, he let out a wail of pain.
"Ow—"
Clutching the leg he had used to kick the table, he hopped about on one foot, gasping for air.
It looked rather ridiculous.
Shi Yaoguang's calm gaze swept over him, and she tugged at the corner of her mouth, "Still trying to stage an accident?"
The other men were chilled by her gaze, but the voice in their earphones gave them courage.
One of the men scoffed harshly, "Don't think that we'll be afraid of you because of this!"
As he spoke, he took out a printed photo.
