The dust on the clothes was easy to shake off, but the wrinkles stirred up by Yang Kaixiong's punch were not something Wang Anfeng could smooth out quickly.
He was also a bit anxious about this minor issue just now, so in his urgency, he had mustered his inner strength, secretly making a move as a warning.
Although this was somewhat against Mr. Jiang's teachings, after all, these were newly made clothes...
Since he turned six, no one had made him new clothes.
A look of distress covered the young man's face.
"Brother Wang..."
As Qin Fei and several others approached, Wang Anfeng let out a sigh, let go of the hem of his garment, and as he looked up, that slight moment of frailty was concealed, and to outsiders, he was still the clean-browed, gentle-mannered youth of the Confucian Sect. He nodded toward the newcomers and smiled,
"Brother Qin, Miss Qiu..."
Qiu Ruoshui returned the greeting, hesitated for a moment, and for the first time spoke to Wang Anfeng,