In the compound.
Inside the room, the tea had been brewed.
Master Lian swept out his arm. "Please have a seat, Master Zhang."
Zhang Ye said politely, "You first, Master Lian."
"You are the guest, so you first," Master Lian said.
Zhang Ye nodded and dispensed with the niceties. He sat down.
Around them, a few of the Lian Family Style disciples were also present. But they looked quite nervous, or maybe they were being cautious, as they kept their eyes on Zhang Ye.
Zhang Ye said helplessly, "Don't be so nervous. I'm just here to resolve things for my friends and coworkers. After I have my tea and finish filming the promo, I'll leave immediately." He knew what sort of reputation he had, so he made clear his intentions to put them at ease. And it was true—he was not planning on causing any trouble today.
The Lian Family Style disciples looked embarrassed.
"It's not that."
"We aren't nervous."
"Yeah, we're not."
