Far from being cowed by the fearful looks around him, Zheng Heng gave a smug snort. He shoved through the crowd, cursing as he forced his way to the front, and glared at Hong Yuan. "Do you still recognize me, you wretch?"
Hong Yuan glanced at Zheng Heng, his gaze shifting slightly, and smiled. "Of course I recognize you, Young Master Zheng. Seven days ago, you came to me for a divination."
Zheng Heng nodded and said coldly, "Good! As long as you admit it. Men! Smash this stall!"
With that, he waved his hand.
The four burly, vicious-looking lackeys behind him grinned savagely and closed in on Hong Yuan like hungry tigers, their eyes fixed greedily on the brocade bag.
Constable Chief Li opened his mouth at the sight, intending to stop them, but before he could speak, the yellow-faced constable tugged at his sleeve and slowly shook his head.
Constable Chief Li's heart immediately sank.
The Zheng Family might have fallen on hard times, but crushing a mere constable chief like him was no different from squashing an ant.
The Qian Residence's steward, by contrast, stood at ease with his hands behind his back, watching with a smile as though enjoying a fine performance.
In that brief delay, a deafening crash and clatter erupted before the divination stall. The four men smashed the table in front of Hong Yuan to pieces, scattering ten copper coins across the ground.
They tore apart the standing banner as well. One man spat a gob of yellow phlegm onto it and stamped hard on it several times, then strode forward, grabbed Hong Yuan by the collar, and raised a fist the size of an earthenware bowl.
The onlookers cried out, almost able to see the young diviner's face blooming with bruises and