"If you are buying, show some money and let’s talk price. If you aren't buying, don't stand here. We have a business to run," Yang Yanguang said impatiently.
If this stall were in a commoner’s part of town, he would always be polite, even to those who had no intention of buying anything. After all, amiability was conducive to a successful business. But in a warrior's world, there was no need to show any amiability. There was no need to show any form of courtesy to a someone who was obviously not there to close a deal.
Yang Yanguang wasn't wrong. Yi Yun was indeed not a potential buyer. His gaze had scanned gently across Xin'er and a seventeen-year-old girl. The two girls felt a trepidation that went down to their core. It was a sense of horror and helplessness like that of an injured deer under a butcher's knife.
"Which one of you here is in charge?"
