```
...
"If you write a poem for me from Zhu Gate, I won't quibble with you about sending someone to block the door," said the short, handsome man as he placed paper and pen in front of Zhu Minglang.
"What should I call you?" Zhu Minglang asked.
"Quan Zong Yan Yuan," the short, handsome man replied.
"Only good with your fists, not with a pen?" Zhu Minglang asked with a smile.
"To write or not to write?"
"Alright," Zhu Minglang picked up the pen.
He dipped it in ink and then wrote one big character on the white paper!
Upon seeing the character, Quan Zong Yan Yuan's face changed, and his gaze turned icy.
Tu Wenhe, who was standing nearby, leaned over to take a look at the character Zhu Minglang had written and immediately burst into laughter.
"Scram!"
On the white paper, Zhu Minglang had written this bold and unconstrained character, no wonder Quan Zong Yan Yuan's facial muscles were twitching with anger!
