...
Zhao Erhu was a rather composed man. Yesterday, he heard about Yan Xiaobao's "glorious feat" of lifting a cauldron over his head and didn't dare to start a fight rashly. He stepped forward and said, "Young brother, we're all reasonable people here. There's no need to fight over every little thing. Can you do me a favor and let go of my brother-in-law first?"
"You know me?" Yan Xiaobao looked at Zhao Erhu with a faint sense of curiosity.
Zhao Erhu froze for a moment, then responded, "Nope, first time meeting today."
"Then that's that. I don't know you either. Why should I show you any respect?" Yan Xiaobao's face carried an expression of complete bewilderment. "Are you, like, brain-damaged or something?"
"Jesus Christ!" Zhao Erhu, though composed, was still a street thug at heart. There was a limit to his patience, and he instantly waved his hand, shouting, "Get him!"
"Damn it! You don't take kindness seriously? I'm gonna beat you to death!"
