Old Liu was a doctor, benevolent in heart. Though he couldn't afford to give people rare herbs, he could still manage to bring home enough to boil a bowl of porridge.
The youth's surname was Chen.
As for his given name, the youth was unwilling to disclose it.
Liu Zheng had no mind to ask. When he returned home, he didn't even feel like eating; instead, he buried his head on the bed, touched the wounds on his face, and grew angrier the more he thought about it.
He clenched his fists, pounding the bed several times!
But he worried about pounding too hard and breaking the bed, which would require money and time to repair.
That night, he lay down to sleep, but in the dead of night, he awoke again, consumed by fury.
Liu Zheng couldn't let it go, got up, and following the faint moonlight, wandered out to the small courtyard.
There was a chicken coop in the courtyard, and a flock of roosters crowed loudly toward the heavens!
