The words he had spoken earlier were meant only as a temporary outlet for his anger—a fleeting outburst, nothing more. Anyone else, after throwing out such a line, would have stopped right there, letting the silence absorb the tension. But to everyone's surprise, this young man—Yang Mo—mocked his own words aloud, right in front of everyone. He turned the insult on its head with deliberate disdain.
The crowd stirred. They had clearly heard him twist his original statement, dismissing it with a smirk. It was bold, almost theatrical. And it did not sit well with the young male salesman, especially being challenged so brazenly in front of so many people.
"A financial investigation? Please," the salesman scoffed, voice rising as he tried to regain the upper hand. "People like you don't even qualify for one. Do you even know where you are standing? This is prime real estate! Every inch of land here is worth more than your entire life savings."
His lip curled with contempt as he continued, "And you, a poor street rat, dare to ask about buying a house here? What a joke. If I were you, I'd have left already—to spare myself the humiliation!"
The salesman's voice grew louder, more aggressive. His face flushed red with fury, and his body puffed up like a toad ready to explode, full of self-righteous indignation.
Yang Mo, calm and unshaken, merely sneered. "What dog's eyes you have."
The words cut like a knife through the air.
The salesman's face darkened immediately. Did he just call himself a dog?
"W-What did you say?! Who are you calling a dog?! Who the hell do you think you are?! Do you even know who I am?! I'm Xiao Tang!"
Yang Mo gave a lazy wave of his hand, as if brushing aside an annoying fly. "You're right. Dog's eyes was the wrong phrase. I should've said... a dog in a fight."
The words dropped like a bomb.
Xiao Tang's face flushed all the way to the base of his neck, his pride battered before a gathering crowd. Everyone in this sales office knew that Xiao Tang's cousin was the lobby manager—a small piece of power he liked to wield like a cudgel. Yet even with that connection, he had just been called a dog in the fight—in public.
If Yang Mo's earlier insult had merely scratched the surface, this one had struck the heart.
"You miserable pauper," Xiao Tang snapped, his voice trembling with anger. "You dare come in here and try to bully me? Look at you—just look at yourself! Have you even glanced in a mirror today? I'll teach you a lesson, right here and now!"
He took a threatening step forward, voice rising to a shout. "Get out! Get the hell out of here before I really lose it and regret letting you walk out!"
Around them, several onlookers had already stopped to watch the scene unfold. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. Some of the other salespeople, sensing things were getting out of hand, began to step back, distancing themselves from Xiao Tang's outburst.
Yang Mo, however, didn't flinch. He stood tall and still, meeting Xiao Tang's glare head-on, his eyes cold and unwavering.
The smell of gunpowder seemed to hang in the air.
At last, someone stepped in.
A young female salesperson named Yuki rushed forward, her expression anxious. "Sir, aren't you here to view the property? Please, just come with me. Let's not cause a scene."
Her voice was calm, meant to diffuse the tension. But in Xiao Tang's eyes, her attempt to intervene was nothing but betrayal. This newcomer siding with a poor fat man to shame me in front of everyone?
"Stop, Yuki!" he barked. "How many times do I have to tell you not to interfere?! You think you're better than me, huh?!"
Had Yuki not spoken up, Yang Mo might have walked away quietly. In Xiao Tang's twisted mind, he could've saved face. But now, because of Yuki, that chance was lost.
"I—Brother Xiao, you've misunderstood me!" Yuki stammered, looking around at the many faces turned her way. "I didn't mean it like that. Please, calm down. I'm not taking anyone's side—"
"The more you talk, the worse it gets!" Xiao Tang snapped. His pride had been hurt, and her explanation only fueled the fire.
More and more people were gathering now. Other salespeople tried to step in, murmuring words of reason, but Xiao Tang was too far gone.
In a fit of rage, he threw the promotional leaflet he was holding to the floor and pointed a trembling finger at Yang Mo.
"I'll say it right here! Whoever dares serve this man is messing with me!"
A hush fell over the room.
The crowd grew quiet. Yuki stood frozen, caught between doing her job and respecting the fragile ego of a coworker.
But Yang Mo had had enough.
He stepped forward, his tone low but forceful. "Where's your department manager?"
Xiao Tang scoffed loudly, folding his arms across his chest with a sneer. "What did you say? You want to see our department manager? Hah! You think just anyone gets to speak with the manager? This isn't a charity. Only customers who spend money here get our time. You? You're nothing. Just get lost while you still can."
He took out his phone, brandishing it like a threat. "If you keep causing trouble, I'll call security myself. You'll regret stepping in here."
In Xiao Tang's eyes, Yang Mo was trying to save face by invoking "authority"—trying to shame him by appealing to higher powers. But what he didn't know was just how badly he was about to miscalculate.
After all, Xiao Tang was just a gold medal salesman.
But Yang Mo?
He hadn't even begun to show his cards.
Instead of getting angry, Yang Mo laughed.
It was cold. Calm. Confident.
"You say I'm being unreasonable?" he said, almost to himself. Then his eyes locked onto Xiao Tang with a sharpness that cut through the air like glass. "You'll wish I were only being unreasonable."