Chapter 6: Each Generation Couldn't Compare To The Previous

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In the train station bustling with activity, there were fashionably dressed young people as well as middle-aged people carrying bags of all sizes. Their pace was hurried, as if isolated from the surrounding people yet still a member of the dense crowd.

People of all walks of life could often be found in train stations. Although they were managed extremely strictly now, and cameras could be found everywhere, there still existed people who sought to obtain ill-gotten wealth through their 'daring skills'.

The train had just arrived at the station when an elderly man asked loudly if anyone had seen his carry bag. The passengers moved hastily; some left without even looking back while others glanced at him with pity, though they too did not stop for him.

The elderly man's skin was dark, and his face was lined with wrinkles left by years of hardship. The clothes he was wearing had been washed so often that the color was washed out and the edges of the fabric roughened. One could tell that his life was not a prosperous one. The sounds of his cries attracted the attention of the train station's security guard. Fearing that the elderly man would collapse from anger, the security guard helped him to a seat at the side. Amidst the busy crowd, someone passed a paper napkin over while another handed a bottle of water to him. Their footsteps continued to remain hurried, unable to find the time to take a few more looks back.

An idle person stood a distance away, watching the excitement. Turning, the person prepared to follow the stream of people out. However, he hadn't even managed to take two steps when someone clapped his shoulder. A tremble shook through the person's body, and the person ran forward without a single look back.

"What are you running for?" A man in a suit and tie aimed a kick at the person's ankle, causing the person to bang into the wall uncontrollably. A few wallets and handphones fell out.

Seeing that he had been exposed, the person forgot about crying out in pain and instead scrambled frantically in a bid to escape the scene. But this handsome, elite-looking man with neatly combed hair who had popped out from nowhere actually used a single leg to press him down, preventing him from even crawling up.

"Daring to steal even an old man's money, aren't you afraid of losing hidden virtue?" Zhuang Qing hauled the thief up and passed him, along with the wallets and handphones on the ground, to the security guard who had rushed over. A small plastic bag amidst the bunch was especially eye-catching. Zhuang Qing patted the dust off him before walking to the elderly man.

"Daye, does this belong to you?"

The elderly man took the plastic bag and opened it, trembling. Other than a few negative invoices, the rest were ten or single dollar bills. They formed a large pile, but in truth, the money was not much.

"Thank you, thank you!" Moved, the elderly man thanked Zhuang Qing continuously. Even the passersby applauded in excitement.

Zhuang Qing squeezed out of the crowd watching the excitement, shook the branded suit he was wearing, and then walked to the lobby of the train station.

"Boss, need a taxi?"

"No."

"Handsome, you're going to Dongcheng? That'll be seventy-five yuan. I'll send you to the doorstep of your house."

"Not going."

Zhuang Qing ignored the numerous drivers who were soliciting customers. His gaze swept through the place before he headed towards a black car. With a knock on the car window, the window opened, and a bald head stretched out. "Boss, you're finally back."

"The train came late," Zhuang Qing threw his luggage into the back of the car before pulling open the car door and sitting down. Immediately, his brows furrowed. "How can cultivators seek enjoyment? Switch off the air-conditioner."

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