He acted as if he hadn't heard the words of the man in white, standing up directly.
"I've eaten my fill, time to sleep, we still have to go to Mount Hua tomorrow morning."
He held his water-milled Zen staff and walked past the man in white, heading out the door toward the inn next door.
The grand monk did not give the man in white any face.
The man in white seemed ready to make a move, but a glance from the corner of his eye toward Zhao Rong's direction made him stop.
"Senior brother..."
As Xiang Da'nan spoke, like the others, he placed his hand on the scabbard.
"Eat your noodles."
Zhao Rong did not fully understand the situation, but as he spoke, he positioned his body toward the south, so if the man in white made a move, he could draw his sword instantly.
In the main hall, only two tables of guests who had drunk plentifully were talking; the rest were already in a tense stand-off.
At the counter, the bald innkeeper said to the server:
