"Brother Peng, what are you doing? Put that down!"
The moment Li Dayong saw Jin Peng draw his blade, he shouted for him to stop.
Wang Jianqiang only froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around Jin Peng's waist. Trembling, he said, "Don't, don't, don't, Brother Peng, don't."
Li Ye reacted the fastest. He had meant to dart back out of the way, but then he realized Jin Peng's knife was stabbing toward his own palm.
By the time he realized something was wrong and leaped forward to stop him, he was already a step too late.
Jin Peng's knife pierced his own palm, and blood immediately began to flow.
Li Ye's hand tightly gripped Jin Peng's knife-wielding right hand.
Perhaps if Li Ye had been even a fraction slower, Jin Peng's left hand would have been stabbed clean through.
Suppressing his anger, Li Ye asked in a low voice, "Brother Peng, what are you doing?"
Jin Peng smiled. "Xiao Ye, I don't know why you don't trust me, but I want you to understand that I, Jin Peng, am not someone who forgets his roots."
"I was never a well-behaved kid growing up, and I caused my family no end of trouble.
"Don't let my laughing and joking all day fool you. When no one was around at night, I worried too. I worried that when my old mother grew old, she still wouldn't get to hold a grandson."
As Jin Peng spoke, tears actually began to roll down his face.
"But I don't worry anymore. I really don't. A few days ago, I hooked up with a girl. Guess how much it cost?"
Jin Peng grinned. "Two cartons of Peony cigarettes and three bottles of Maotai got her into the bedding factory as a worker. She wanted