Mr. Huang listened to Su Facai and He Ximei's conversation and was quite pleased.
He glanced at Su Xiaofeng.
The young girl had a slender waist like a willow, her hair tied high, with delicate skin and tender flesh, at the flowering age, which made this old man's heart ripple.
He narrowed his eyes and spoke lightly, "Right, I will certainly acknowledge the compensation. Here's what we'll do—Yu, the manager, find some people to send Su the old lame back, and let this girl come with me so I can discuss the compensation with her."
Upon hearing this, the manager immediately nodded to several workers who lifted Su the old lame down the mountain.
He Ximei tugged at Xiaofeng, "Xiaofeng, let's go home together; we can talk about the compensation later."
"Don't, let's talk about it now," Mr. Huang's face showed a triumphant expression. Wasn't the young girl resenting him? Today he would show her what it's like to have him make the devil turn the millstone.
