Ye Qiu clapped his hands, and then a dim light came on. In the dimness, one could finally make out people's faces vaguely.
But his face was still indeterminate under the faint light, changing between light and dark.
"Mr. Tang, please have a seat."
Tang Yi sat opposite and glanced at the other party, asking, "Does the old master know about this?"
"He does not." Ye Qiu looked coldly at Tang Yi. "Are you surprised?"
Tang Yi poured himself a cup of tea and smiled, "Tell me, what on earth do you want to do?"
Ye Qiu's gaze was icy as he stared intently at Tang Yi, as if trying to see through him thoroughly.
However, the result naturally disappointed him.
Tang Yi's face was a picture of calm, and his eyes seemed extremely indifferent, like the night, unfathomable.
Suddenly, Ye Qiu scoffed and pulled out a sharp long knife from under the table.
The handle was greatly worn, yet it gleamed with a bright luster.
