But as Zhao Fu carried a wooden bucket, someone bumped into him, and a little of the filthy water inside splashed onto him.
It was a fair-skinned young man dressed in luxurious clothes, carrying an air of arrogance. At a glance, he was clearly of royal or noble birth.
Though the other party had carelessly bumped into him, Zhao Fu immediately apologized. In this matter, there was no right or wrong—only differences in status.
"Forgive me, sir! This lowly one did not see you. I will wipe it clean at once!"
Zhao Fu had now seen reality clearly and no longer thought about his former identities. He regarded himself only as a humble little eunuch. Naturally, he had to take the initiative to admit fault, his tone exceedingly servile as he hoped the other man would not blame him.
Yet although Zhao Fu apologized sincerely, the young man's face changed the moment he saw the filthy water splashed on him. He fiercely slapped Zhao Fu across the face.
Zhao Fu felt a burning pain on his face, and anger surged within him. Yet he held it back. But then the young man kicked Zhao Fu in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. A sharp pain twisted through his abdomen, and another blaze of fury rose in Zhao Fu's heart—but when he thought of his current identity, he endured it again.
But the young man still refused to spare Zhao Fu. He kicked him viciously while cursing him.
"Dog thing!"
"Dead slave!"
"Lowborn trash!"
As the young man continued kicking and cursing, Zhao Fu finally could not endure any longer. He sprang up from the ground and drove a heavy punch into the young man's face. The young man was somewhat stunned. He had never expected this lowly