"Pei Zhi, are you still eating or not?"
The man, who had been persistently threatened by a wooden sword, couldn't help but look toward the Blood Guanyin, known for making serpents slither and dragons writhe, with a look of reproach.
Anyone who comes for a meal as a guest and ends up facing a drawn sword is unlikely to be in a good mood.
"Liu Li, put the sword down."
As the host, Lan Peizhi finally spoke up.
"Shua."
Duanmu Liu Li really did listen to her older martial sister, sheathing the sword in one fluid motion, a sight for sore eyes.
This single move was probably streets ahead of those martial experts out on the market.
The middle-aged man smiled, "No wonder you're so confident; it turns out Liu Li is here. That's not fair, not fair at all."
"I don't need her to make a move to deal with you."
