Xun Zhen and Jiang Sheng had been old friends for many years.
Under normal circumstances, no matter how fiercely the two of them argued, they knew when to stop. After all, making too much of a scene would affect their work, and at private gatherings, there was no need to make Jiang Sheng pay through the nose. But Jiang Sheng's words just now had struck Xun Zhen right in his Achilles' heel. He was most particular about not dragging his family into things.
Even if his son really was useless and not very bright, he was still the only child he and his late wife had. He could complain about the boy himself, but Jiang Sheng, with his crow's beak, had no right.
That man's Way of the Scholar really could tell good fortune from bad!
"Stop fighting, stop fighting—"
"Who's pulling on my belt—"
"Don't crowd over here! Everyone, back up! Back! Back!"
"You shameless bastard! You took the chance to ambush me, abusing your office to settle a personal grudge. I've finally caught you!" Some people were hoarsely trying to break up the fight, some were taking advantage of the chaos to settle scores, and others were shoved forward by the onlookers behind them. Their official hats and robes were in disarray.
"The post stations belong to the Ministry of War! The Ministry of Revenue, don't you dare take them!"
"We're beating these black-hearted Ministry of Revenue bastards! Tell me, was the cured meat you gave the Ministry of Rites' dining hall last twelfth month spoiled?"
"Who pulled off my trousers?"
Some rolled up their sleeves to break up the fight, while others threw punches;
some took off their shoes and swung them at people, while others slapped faces;
some got close enough to wash people's faces with