"Uh, Brother Ding, I was wrong before, I shouldn't have, shouldn't have taken what others liked. This knife... this knife is yours..."
Zhang Xin stepped forward, his face apologetic as he handed the knife sheath back to Ding Yong Country. If he had known Ding's background earlier, he wouldn't have pulled such a dumb stunt.
"Ah? This... this isn't right, I've already smoked some of the cigarettes, and the jerky, the jerky too..."
Ding Yong Country looked longingly at the military saber, apologetically waved his hand, and patted the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. The jerky was already in his and Zheng Ziwen's stomachs.
"Just take it, it's only two packs of cigarettes. I'll pay you back. If I remember correctly, I haven't paid you for the goods worth over ten thousand yuan from two transactions in July and August. Now you don't have to pay me back. What a bargain, haha."
