"You have come."
Ye Xiaotian pushed open the door of the thatched hut and stepped in angrily. He kicked the door shut behind him.
Dust fell from the ceiling of the thatched hut as if an earthquake tremor had occurred.
Xiao Qixiu hurriedly used his spiritual source to cover the food on the table to prevent the dust from falling into it.
Qiao Qianzhi, wearing an apron, carried a pot of goose boiled in brine and sat down at the table. Then, he laughingly remarked, "You take it easy. Do not break down the hut with your temper."
He picked a blade of grass off the chunk of ham, turned his head around, and asked, "Where is Elder Sang?"
"He is not available."
Ye Xiaotian was so angry that he kept on drinking by himself.
"What is wrong?"
Xiao Qixiu and Qiao Qianzhi looked at each other, raised their wine glasses, and clinked the one held by the Master Dean. They were trying to help Dean Ye calm down.
