Li Kuiyong wasn't stupid. Of course he could see Yuan Jun looked down on him.
Li Kuiyong gave Yuan Jun a once-over and said, "It's not that exaggerated. But guys like you? I can handle three or five at a time."
"And you think you can handle a cleaver?" Yuan Jun cocked his head and rolled his eyes again.
Li Kuiyong wasn't one to take shit. He raised a hand and snatched Yuan Jun's wool cap off, but before he could say anything, Wang Yan clapped a hand on him and shoved him aside.
"Prejudice in people's hearts is a mountain, Dayong. People are all suckers for punishment—talking is useless. We brothers are here to do a job for money, not watch you put on an act. Yuan Jun, right? You're not doing it well. Watch me."
As he spoke, Wang Yan reached out, grabbed Yuan Jun by the neck, and lifted him into the air with one hand.
Yuan Jun kicked his legs wildly and used both hands to pry Wang Yan's hand open, but Wang Yan's grip was like steel. No matter how he struggled, it was all in vain.
"Brother Yan, that's enough. We're all brothers here. It won't be good if things get ugly." Zhong Yuemin finally spoke. If he stayed silent any longer, Yuan Jun would be strangled to death.
"What were you thinking earlier? Now you want to play the good guy?" Wang Yan shook his head. A few more seconds passed, and only when Yuan Jun's struggles weakened did he toss him to the ground.
Yuan Jun slumped on the ground, clutching his flushed neck and coughing frantically, as if he were about to cough up his guts.
"Brother Yan, that was really a bit much. We're all on the same side—what was