Two sword and shield guards rifled through Mr. Zhuang's belongings, leaving him flushed with indignation. However, his complexion was naturally dark, making his embarrassment hardly perceptible.
"What's this?"
Pointing at an accumulation of lumps on Zhang San's bear floor, the leading guard asked with some bewilderment.
Mr. Zhuang shot him a sidelong glance, "Just fat, can't you tell?"
"Fat?"
The guard squeezed the mass, looking confounded.
Another guard then pointed to the faint spider-web-like patterns on his back, "What about this?"
"Tattoos. Is that a problem?"
"Tattoos?"
The guard touched them, they felt rather rough, and Mr. Zhuang immediately lost his patience: "Hey man, we're both grown-ups here; you're making me uncomfortable. How about getting a woman to do this instead?"
"You..."
"Alright, that's enough, let him in!"
A voice suddenly came from within the tent, prompting the two guards to respectfully withdraw.
