The big man took a big step forward and reached for the storage bag at his waist as if he wanted to draw a blade and kill this meddlesome cultivator.
The leading man's gaze turned sharp.
The big man felt a cold sweat break out on his back, and then he remembered that they shouldn't cause any unnecessary trouble. With an awkward smile, he retracted his hand and cursed at the nosy cultivator:
"Scram!"
Knowing he was no match, the cultivator left in anger and resentment.
The other tea guests, seeing the bad situation, also dispersed.
The teahouse owner, worried, glanced at Mo Hua and sighed, helpless to do anything but hide in the distance.
In a small place like the Second Grade State Border, a cultivator in the late stage of Foundation Establishment was simply not someone they could afford to provoke.
Now only Mo Hua and the four men of uncertain identity remained in the teahouse.
Mo Hua looked tense and asked timidly,
"Are you... bad guys?"
