Second Deng passed through the moon gate between the front and rear courtyards. The moment he entered the rear courtyard, he heard someone speak coldly.
"Sell today, and it's one hundred forty-three. If I come again tomorrow, it'll be one hundred forty-two... If you don't care whether Deng Yifu lives or dies, then feel free to keep dragging this out."
Madam Deng was so furious her eyes nearly split. When she suddenly saw someone entering through the moon gate, she could not help rubbing her eyes. She felt she might be seeing things. "Second... is that you?"
Second Deng was burning with rage, but the moment he saw his mother, his heart softened. "It's me, Mom. I'm back."
Besides Uncle Shui, who watched the gate, there were seven or eight Deng Family relatives in the rear courtyard, including four young, able-bodied men.
Facing them were only three people: a tall, skinny middle-aged man and two burly fellows.
Yet those three alone had completely crushed the Deng Family's momentum. The reason was simple: they had a Low-Rank Martial Master.
There were stone benches and tables in the Deng Family's rear courtyard. The tall, skinny middle-aged man had one foot planted on the edge of a stone bench, looking immensely pleased with himself. He was as arrogant as could be.
He had been about to continue showing off when he suddenly saw so many Martial Warriors rush in from outside. He was immediately startled.
When he heard that the newcomers were the Deng Family's second son, contempt flashed through his eyes. Still, he did not dare keep posturing, or he would suffer an immediate loss.
So he lowered his foot from the stone table and glanced at Madam Deng. "Old lady, I've made myself clear. What you choose to do is for