Top Grade Immortal Emperor in the Flower City

Chapter 127: Chapter 127 Betting

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The man in the suit kicked the pairs of bronze artifacts on the ground, scattering them. Then he grabbed the stall owner by the collar, swearing and cursing in a way that was utterly repellent.

"You could've just not bought it if you recognized the fakes. There are plenty of fakes here in the antique market. Why don't you go smash up someone else's shop?"

"Yeah, I think he's picking on the stall owner just because he looks honest and easy to bully."

"Tsk tsk, the stall owner is even disabled, and setting up a stall is hard enough for him. This guy's really going too far."

The crowd around was all talking and pointing, but when the man in the suit turned around, his face twisted with malice, "Shut your mouths! Are any of you going to stand up for him?"

At this, everyone chose to shut up. In these times, no one wanted to stick their neck out for a stranger and bring trouble upon themselves.

Ye Ling watched the stall owner being manhandled by the man in the suit, his eyes devoid of sympathy. His lack of concern wasn't for no reason; the stall owner exuded a deathly aura, had a sinister face, and even a hint of murderous intent. He was probably an old grave robber, and if nothing unexpected happened, the man in the suit was in for some bad luck soon.

But, just because Ye Ling wouldn't stick his neck out for the stall owner didn't mean he wouldn't stand up for the treasure.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing, bullying a disabled person like that? With your keen eyes, you figured out the goods were fakes, so just leave if you're not buying. Is there a need to wreck his stall?" Ye Ling slapped away the hand of the man in the suit and stepped in front of the stall owner to rebuke him.

The man in the suit froze, staring at his reddened palm, then erupted in anger, "Where did this asshole come from? Are you even old enough to butt into others' business like this? You're so ill-mannered. I bet you're one of those bastards who has a birthdate but no upbringing!"

Ye Ling, who had originally only wanted to browse for a couple of treasures, felt his face darken at these words. A flicker of murderous intent surged forth, startling the man in the suit so badly that his legs began to tremble uncontrollably, as if shrouded by the abyssal hell itself.

"You're asking for death!" Ye Ling's face remained dark as he stepped up to the man in the suit, his palm shooting up to land a heavy slap across the man's mouth.

The slap resonated sharply, blood spraying, and the man in the suit fell back with a mouthful of blood, "You bastard, you dare to hit me! You should ask around who dares to mess with Smiling Tiger, Wang Er! I'll make sure you regret this day!"

"Smiling Tiger, Wang Er? I'll turn you into a Crying Face Cat today!" Ye Ling, still furious, moved towards the so-called Smiling Tiger. Suddenly, he felt a tug on his arm, and turned to see it was the stall owner.

"Brother, don't trouble yourself with this matter; it didn't involve you to begin with," said the seemingly weak stall owner, his eyes glinting darkly.

Ye Ling shook his head, "It's not about you anymore, it's about me now!"

Approaching Smiling Tiger, Ye Ling lifted his foot and stamped fiercely on the man's chest. A series of crisp cracks followed, and Smiling Tiger shrieked in agony.

"Say one more word, and I'll break every bone in your body!" Ye Ling's voice was chilling, grim-like.

The Smiling Tiger, petrified, nodded frantically. Once Ye Ling moved his foot away, the man struggled to get up and stumbled away in haste.

The crowd now looked at Ye Ling with a hint of fear in their eyes, and a young man within the group disdainfully commented, "The guy was a bit too much, sure, but you didn't have to go and injure him like that. It seems like your family never taught you any manners."

These words reignited the anger in Ye Ling that had just subsided. He turned to look at the young man and said coldly, "You spineless egg, a bastard without any upbringing, you didn't jump in when the stall owner was being bullied, but you have the nerve to criticize now? Do you really think you're the embodiment of morality? You base, shameless, vile, dirty, faceless creature!"

At this outburst, everyone around gasped. This guy was not only skilled in combat but also had a sharp tongue!

The young man, insulted, turned red-faced and his hands trembled, "You! You dare to curse me!"

"Why wouldn't I dare? And don't you dare talk to me about who your dad is or who your mom is. I didn't swear brotherhood with your dad, nor have I slept with your mom, so you don't need to pretend we're acquaintances." Ye Ling pointed at the young man and cursed.

After listening, the young man nearly sprayed a mouthful of old blood in frustration. This guy, with his silver tongue, really missed his calling by not becoming a lawyer.

"What's wrong with what Smiling Tiger said! All the stuff here is fake anyway. When someone finds out they're fakes and he talks back, and then his stall gets smashed, he only has himself to blame!" The young man tried to calm down, screaming inside, ah, the sky is so beautiful, mustn't let the mood be ruined.

Ye Ling glanced at the young man, "Your grandpa!"

The young man was taken aback, "Who are you cursing! You little rascal, let me tell you, I'm an educated person, I won't stoop to your level!"

"Your grandpa!"

"Who are you cursing!"

"Whoever responds, I'm cursing him, your grandpa!"

"Your grandpa!"

"My grandpa is your grandpa!"

Pfft, everyone laughed, and the young man who Ye Ling was pointing at and berating turned shades of green and white on his face.

"You! You! If you're so tough, stop quibbling. If you dare, let's see the real deal in an appraisal!" The young man couldn't retort at all and was burning with anger.

Ye Ling heard this and immediately laughed. Really, like an old immortal tasting arsenic, seeking his own death.

"Go on, how do we see the real deal?" Ye Ling asked disdainfully.

The young man took a deep breath and pointed at the stall owner's goods, "Everything at this stall is a counterfeit. If you can find a single genuine item, I'll admit defeat!"

"What if you lose?" Ye Ling asked leisurely.

The young man gritted his teeth, "Me, lose? That's a joke. Whoever loses has to kneel on the ground, knock their head on the ground three times and yell 'Grandpa' three times!"

"Don't worry, my good grandson, those three knocks and three calls for 'Grandpa,' you've got them coming!" After saying this, Ye Ling squatted down, picked up a scroll of paintings and looked over a small bowl-sized basket of copper coins.

"Big brother, I'll take these two items. Tell me, how much?" Ye Ling's expression remained unchanged, his demeanor the same as before.

The young man saw Ye Ling pick up these two items and immediately became very excited. He had just checked the basket of copper coins; they were all replicas from the Republic era, not a single real one, not a single one. As for that scroll of painting, though the craftsmanship was fine, it was still a fake, and he believed he could never be wrong.

"Brother, these items, five thousand!" The stall owner thought for a moment and finally named his price.

Ye Ling nodded, took out a bright red banknote from his body, and handed it directly to the stall owner, "Ten thousand for you, no need for change."

After speaking, Ye Ling pointed to the young man, "Alright, kneel down now, admit your mistake verbally, call me 'Grandpa!'"

The young man, who had been excited just a moment ago, suddenly froze. What did he mean, not even a fart had been let out, and he was already declaring him the loser?