*****

Yang Zimei wasn't assured of Lin Qingmei, so he said to Master and went straight to Brunei Street.

Many people were holding antique objects in the hands of Mo Xuan's door.

In the past, everyone was holding things that they bought, and lined up in order, waiting for Song Xuan to help identify.

Now, they are standing in a mess, with various expressions on their faces, most of them are angry, and shouting for return.

On that day, Song Xuan once promised that the goods sold in the store could be returned within one year.

Now these people are generally worried that they can buy fake goods, so they all come to call for returns.

Yang Zimei squeezed in, only to see Lin Qingmei and the shop's work plan anxious.

"Everyone, we are short of funds in our store. Please wait a few days, we will definitely handle the return for you, please don't worry."

Lin Qingmei's face flushed.

"A few days later? In a few days, maybe you have already run away. Even if there is no run, the store will be closed and will return the goods for us? What a joke, now return us immediately, otherwise, we Just smashed this shop. "

A man called out loud.

Others echoed.

The antiques on hand are worth at least tens of thousands of yuan. If they are really fakes, they will lose money, so they will definitely not miss this opportunity to return.

Lin Qingmei was so anxious that she was about to cry, her face pale, cold sweats, and she put her hands on her stomach.

Yang Zimei hurried over to help her, "Sister Qingmei, I'm here."

As soon as Lin Qingmei saw her, she immediately grabbed her hand and asked anxiously, "Little eyebrow, how is Song Xuan?"

"Rest assured, I have asked the police to take care of him, and Mr. Song will be fine."

Yang Zimei let Lin Qingmei sit down.

"They all want to return?"

Yang Zimei looked at the noisy person in front of her, frowned.

"Well." Lin Qingmei nodded weakly. "So many shipments require at least three million cash. Now, we can only withdraw one million cash."

"It's okay, I have it!"

Yang Zimei glanced around the noisy crowd and cleared his throat. "Everyone, if you want to return the goods, please line up. Come one by one. If you dare to be noisy, don't blame me."

"Who are you?" A man asked disdainfully. "Are you able to help us return the goods?"

"I'm a disciple of Mr. Song. Since I can say it, I will naturally be able to help you with your return." Yang Zimei said.

"Fudge, don't believe her!"

Cried someone in the crowd.

Yang Zimei saw that the person had caused the incident intentionally, and he did not have any antiques in his hands.

Her gaze was cold, and she looked like a ghost, quickly rushing into the crowd, kicking the person out directly, tossing it a few times in the air, and then letting him land securely.

Everyone saw her as a little girl, and she was so frightened that she could toss a big man like a toy.

The man was so dizzy that she was thrown to the ground.

"I said that if anyone wanted to make trouble, I wouldn't be polite." She glanced coldly at everyone, commanding coldly, "queue me immediately!"

Others looked at the man on the ground, and no one wanted to be tossed around like a toy, and looked at the beautiful, soft and weak girl in front of him. They had a sense of deterrence, so they lined up obediently.

***