Ye Qing's words were very inclusive, encapsulating everyone around him, which immediately caused dissatisfaction.
"What the hell do you mean by that?"
"What does your beef with Yang Wei have to do with us?"
"Don't think you're tough just because you can fight. This is a society ruled by law. Do you have any idea who my father is?"
"So what if you can fight? How many of us are here? How many can you take on by yourself?"
The crowd erupted in anger, their rage evident. They were bold because of their superior numbers—if there had been fewer people, surely none would have spoken out. But now, with their numbers, they sought to suppress Ye Qing.
Ye Qing ignored the crowd, slowly walked to the table, picked up a wine bottle, and scanned the crowd with his gaze. Suddenly, he stretched out his hand and hurled the bottle at one of the loudest antagonists. The bottle flew accurately and struck the person's head, immediately knocking him to the ground.
