This hoarse voice, which sounded like a drake's, carried a sleazy undertone.
It was none other than the voice of Yang Fei's master, Shou Jing Gong.
After Yang Fei finished speaking, he turned and switched on the garage overhead light.
The entire garage instantly became brightly lit.
Beneath the light stood a sharp-faced, monkey-cheeked old man.
He was dressed in a blue cloth robe, his forehead shiny, and his eyes rolling about vigorously.
The old man's half-bald forehead retained only a tuft of white hair, slicked with plenty of hair gel.
His hair was combed neatly and shone brightly.
Who else could it be but Old Silver Stick?
Shou Jing Gong glared at Yang Fei, fuming with rage.
"Damn it, you've grown balls, daring to hit your master's wife?"
"Believe it or not, I'll squash your eggs, and Little Bird Yang will become Yang Wuniao?"
He cursed under his breath but kept winking furiously at Yang Fei.
