The man had no peanuts this time, but he kept shoving red-coated fried noodles into his mouth, his cheeks bulging, chewing heartily with an air of profound satisfaction.
Zheng Fan took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily.
Zheng Fan had no intention of going up to confront Li Fusheng or say anything, because he was the one in the wrong.
At this moment, A Ming surreptitiously pulled an arrow from his shoulder and tossed it aside. Turning to Liang Cheng, who stood beside him, he asked, "What on earth was this fight about?"
"Li Fusheng must have just learned that this army garrison is undermanned," Liang Cheng explained. "Clearly, given its size, there should be more soldiers. Perhaps some were diverted earlier to deal with Li Bao."
"And then?"
