"Tsk, tsk!"
"Old Song, your blade hasn't dulled a bit!"
"It's indeed the same old Song."
Zhou Xian and the others laughed as they commented.
"Two pieces of trash, a total embarrassment."
The middle-aged man cursed inwardly, his face contorted distastefully. Seeing Song Qingshan's unfriendly gaze come his way, he gritted his teeth, put on a forced smile, and pulled a business card from the glamorous woman's expensive purse, saying with a smile:
"Brother, you're formidable, clearly a master. They say people aim high and water flows low; with your skills so strong, you must be lacking a good place to use them. Why not work for me? I guarantee you'll live a hundred times better than you do now, never short of cars, houses, or cash!"
Song Qingshan snorted contemptuously and bluntly said to the middle-aged man, "Go to hell—scram!"
"Heh heh, quite the temper!"