The sudden appearance of the white deer startled everyone. Fang Zheng sat atop it, silently sweeping his gaze over the vicious-looking men around him.
"All right, that's enough."
"Who the hell are you, kid?!"
Seeing Fang Zheng riding the white deer, one of the thugs roared angrily.
"Haven't you heard of the Xianyang Ten Tigers? If you know what's good for you, get on your knees and kowtow to me three times, or I'll make you regret it!"
As the thug spoke, the others grabbed carrying poles, butcher's cleavers, and other objects lying nearby, surrounding Fang Zheng. Fang Zheng merely remained seated on the white deer, coldly watching the gang of street ruffians as he spoke calmly.
"Either get lost or die. Your choice."
"Ugh..."
Hearing Fang Zheng's words, the thugs' expressions changed. Their faces shifted several times before they ultimately... yielded to the fear in their hearts.
"Just you remember this!"
After tossing out that standard villain line, the thugs threw down their weapons and turned to run. They were not afraid of losing face, but losing their lives was another matter entirely. Of course, anyone daring to throw their weight around in Xianyang, the capital of the Qin State, surely had some backing. But Fang Zheng could not care less. Still, from a certain perspective, these street punks understood the situation and knew when to stop better than many martial artists. If they had been martial artists or nobles, even knowing they would die, they would probably have forced themselves to come up and provoke him. These hoodlums, however, were exceptionally flexible. Like jackals, they did not mind losing face and running away. Once they gathered together again, they could strut around before other prey. Missing out on this one meant nothing, did it?
Naturally, Fang Zheng did