"Uncle Master, do you know who else is going to Songshan to watch the opera?"
Zhao Rongchao glanced at his cane and sat opposite Lu Lianrong.
"Except for the Mount Heng of the Northern Sacred Peaks, all sects are present," Lu replied.
The look in the golden-eyed crow's eyes jumped with the lantern inside the room, "Everyone was getting along splendidly, drinking heartily. Cheng Buyou of the Huashan Sword Sect and I drank five cups together, one for each of the Five Peaks Alliance."
"Weren't there only four peaks coming?"
"Those not present are also in the bag."
Zhao Rong made a sound of acknowledgment, thinking to himself, these bad characters really do stink together.
"Did Cheng Buyou invite Uncle Master to go up to Mount Hua together?"
Lu Lianrong's piercing eyes fixed on him momentarily.
Guessing some things isn't surprising, the surprise is how precise the guesses were.
Memories of Zhao Rong passing tea suddenly came to mind, making it suddenly not surprising at all.
