Ambrose’s steamed buns were snatched by this teenager called Dean Lynch who was rude. He liked to bully the small and the weak.

Laborers in the barracks could only get two steamed buns for every meal. Two steamed buns were not enough for a growing teenager like Dean, so he snatched Ambrose’s steamed buns.

Ambrose yelled at Dean with a flushed face, “Y-you! Return them to me! Return them to me! Those buns are mine…”

However, Ambrose was pushed onto the floor before he could approach Dean.

“Who can prove that these steamed buns are yours?” Dean sneered and condescendingly looked down on Ambrose. “The buns are now in my hand, so it’s mine!”

Ambrose was so angry and almost in tears upon hearing those words. He really wanted to take back the buns but was too young. Although he knew a few cultivation methods, he was no match for Dean.

“Dean Lynch! Return those steamed buns to the kid!”

At this moment, someone reprimanded him from not far away before a young boy with thick eyebrows and