Zhang Xiaowei sneered as he dropped these words, swung his arm grandly, and prepared to lead his people away.
"Please wait."
Zhao Wuji instantly became anxious and hurriedly stopped him.
"Mr. Zhang, don't take their words to heart. You're a distinguished guest that I personally invited; how can you just leave like that? Look, the competition will officially start in a little while, so please follow me and wait inside," Zhao Wuji said.
Zhao Wuji stepped aside and politely made a welcoming gesture.
Zhang Xiaowei didn't budge and gave a cold snort.
"First you ask me to come, then you tell me to roll; do you really think I'm a pushover that you can squish however you like?"
Zhao Wuji, with a smile plastered on his face, thought a casual remark would suffice to gloss over the situation.
Little did he know Zhang Xiaowei would not afford him this face-saving measure.
Within the Qigong Masters Association, there had been few who dared to show disrespect to Zhao Wuji—until today.
