After pleading for a long time, Bian Weikang, who was prostrating and weeping on the ground, had already lost his voice from shouting. From time to time, he swung his fists and pounded the ground, an endless expression of regret and an intense self-loathing, resenting that he couldn't even protect the woman he loved. His fists were bloodied from the beating.
In the past, as the young master of Wukang Mountain, he probably never imagined that one day he would be stumped by fifty thousand gold, a lesson likely to be remembered for the rest of his life.
The onlooking crowd showed no sympathy for him, with most reactions being ones of mockery and disdain.
Someone even whispered to a companion, "A big man can let go of his dignity, what is he afraid of? If it really comes to it, just rob!"
But it's not happening to them; who knows whether they would dare to take the risk and resort to robbery if it did.
