Warning Words

"Who do you think you are? Do you deserve to stand on my property and breathe?" The young man in the brocade robe kicked over the wonton stall on the street, pointed with his jade fan, and the servants behind him gathered around him with a ferocious smile - today he must have his hands and feet amputated by this poor man who doesn't know how to show appreciation. Jia Zhen raised his eyes, his eyes as calm as an ancient well. "You're right." He sighed. The next second, the young man in brocade robes and his fan turned into a handful of snow-white paper ashes, scattering into the long street with the wind. It was completely white, so clean.