The car headed toward the city center, and Xu Qingyan didn't bring up anything else, driving in silence.
Because he had been caught in the rain, he became adept at ruining other people's umbrellas.
He had seen too much of society's gristly side, only bullying young girls who were easy targets; there was nothing scary about them. He had seen worse people and had been a bad guy himself.
The fruit shop owner didn't dare to stir up trouble, it was just that he had run into someone even more problematic than himself, someone who would turn hostile at the smallest disagreement.
Xu Qingyan never gave a thought to the logic of the lower social strata, nor did he want to reason with them. In Southern familial cultures, things weren't about right or wrong, only about smoothing things over and getting things done.
If you were in the right, there was no need to reason with anyone, the past was all about who had your back.
