"You're spouting bloody nonsense! We clearly never touched any of your money pouches! This pouch is ours!" the man among the pair shouted, his eyes full of grievance.
"With so many people here, why are you accusing us just because you lost your money? Is it because we were sitting behind you?"
The woman bore quite a resemblance to the man. The two were probably siblings.
She was fairly pretty, and in her anger, her chest rose and fell continuously, drawing no small number of gazes.
Great Ling had an open-minded atmosphere. After the various sects and nations had been conquered and absorbed into it, women dressed in outfits that exposed their entire thighs could often be seen even on the streets.
The woman's dress revealed a hint of cleavage, and coupled with her pitiful beauty in anger, it immediately made quite a few people around them eager to step forward and play the hero rescuing a beauty.
Zhang Rongfang stood to one side and examined them carefully.
After practicing martial arts, his eyesight was now far better than before. He quickly discovered that although the red-bearded strong man looked fierce, his words and gaze were frank and open, and the anger in his chest seemed utterly genuine.
The brother and sister, meanwhile, were also brimming with indignation. Yet upon closer inspection, the woman's hands were slender, and the sides of her index and middle fingers bore faint calluses and torn skin.
Her brother—the man—looked righteously furious, but his gaze actually kept drifting.
Zhang Rongfang then looked at the money pouch clutched in the woman's hand.
The pouch was made of red animal hide, with a white women's knitted cover wrapped around it.
Most people, upon seeing it, would probably focus their attention on that women's knitted cover first.
But