Liang Zhijie was amazed in his heart, but he didn't dare to say anything, and just kept giving directions to Gao Feng, who was driving next to him.
Zhang Ye sat alone in the back, quietly looking at the streets outside the window.
The street was very narrow.
Calling it a street was actually more like calling it an alley.
On both sides, self-constructed buildings no taller than twenty meters squeezed out this path.
Less than ten meters wide, it was impossible for the company's trucks to turn around.
They could only make a turn at the road ahead.
There was an open space there, where the stalls in the middle had long been cleared out by Li Wanhao's men, leaving only some vegetable leaves and rotten fruits in those pits and uneven ground.
Although this area had been redesignated as a market district, it still fell far short of its past.
All along the way, you could see no more than a dozen stalls.