Lin Weiming had already heard the commotion and was holding an iron shovel in his hand, ready to have something handy if the Jiang family caused trouble.

Liu Junlan glanced at the corner of the wall, where a kitchen knife stood upright, already sharpened to a fine point.

Master Jiang stepped forward, bowed to the two men, and said, “I heard that my unfilial son has done something wrong again recently and offended you two. As soon as I heard that, I quickly pulled him over to apologize. But he’s just a child and he’s shy. He’s hiding over there and doesn’t dare to come over. I beg you two gentlemen to be magnanimous and forgive my son this time.”

“Our family would never dare to let Master Jiang say such a thing.” Lin Weiming’s gaze was fixed on Master Jiang, then swept over the thugs he had brought with him.

I don't know why, but all the thugs I brought this time had dark circles under their eyes and looked listless.

Lin Weiming found it strange, but he remained vigilant. The thought of Jiang Yongqiang saying he would take Lin Wanyue back as a child bride made him furious. He gritted his teeth and gripped the shovel in his hand even tighter.

"You're too kind. I heard from some of the boys that my good-for-nothing son of mine knocked over your soy milk bucket. I'll pay for it all, so please don't be angry."

Mr. Jiang smiled broadly and sniffed, "When I came over just now, I smelled the delicious aroma from your stall. I'm still hungry even though I'm full. I wonder how you came up with this?"

"The moment your shop opens, everyone on this street gets drawn here. As for my simple-minded son, it's just that he's not very bright, so please don't take it to heart. If you're really angry, I'll have him come over right now so you can give him a couple of punches. What do you say?"