The wind in Quanzhou Port is salty and hot.
Chen Zhou stood at the door of his dilapidated warehouse and watched Huang Dekun's eight-carrying sedan disappear at the corner of the street.
Before the sedan curtain fell, the resentful expression on that fat face was clearly visible.
"Three days!"
"Boy Chen, I only give you three days!"
"Either you give me five thousand taels of silver, or this shabby warehouse and the last bit of your Chen family's face belong to me, Huang Dekun!"
Huang Dekun's shouts seemed to still echo in his ears.
