"I'll tell Chengyu later, don't worry."
As he glanced over, he saw Zhou Wenbin running out from the end of the village, his gait so frantic it was as if he were being chased by a dog.
"What's the matter?" Shen Dong took a couple of steps forward instinctively.
Zhou Wenbin was still a few steps away from Shen Dong when he began shouting, "Mr. Shen, Mr. Shen."
"All panicked, what's going on?"
"Lend me some money, lend me, lend me a million," Zhou Wenbin panted, occasionally glancing back in fear, his eyes full of pleading.
Shen Dong pursed his lips, hesitating, "Money is not the issue, but you tell me the problem first."
"I..." Zhou Wenbin hesitated and, noticing the village official, waved impatiently, "Go away, will you!"
Shen Dong's eyebrows rose, just about to scold him, when Zhou Wenbin deflated and said, "Someone took my woman."
What?
Shen Dong swallowed back his words. The hatred for the murder of a father, the rancor of a stolen wife, these were age-old vendettas.