"If the people of Nine Streams can solve problems, why don't you seek their help instead of tolerating the Wuyun Sect's bullying?" Cheng Ziang asked, puzzled.
"Er..." Upon hearing his words, the merchant displayed a slightly awkward expression. After a moment of silence, he spoke with a serious face, "Isn't it because some people always hold on to a sliver of hope? They are just like that—if the knife isn't held to their own necks, they will always be mere spectators. Today I got roughed up, and I accept that, because they will get roughed up tomorrow as well, at least I get to watch a good show."
"So, how are you any different from them?" Cheng Ziang frowned.
"They do it, can't I do it?" the merchant retorted.
"Ah, with this attitude, forget about finding anyone from Nine Streams, why don't you guys just fight it out among yourselves? Whoever wins gets to call the shots," Cheng Ziang sighed in resignation.
