Fan Xian's chopsticks pushed the food around on the plate and picked out a piece of beef seeped in sesame oil. He placed to on his white rice before bringing it slowly to his lips. He chewed it finely, savoring the taste, and still did not acknowledge Ming Qingda kneeling at the side.
Ming Qingda was not a simple person. What this one kneel represented was also not that simple.
Fan Xian needed time to think.
Only when he finished thinking did he gently put down his bowl and chopsticks, and said, "Master Ming, your age is much more advanced than mine. How can I live with this?"
The imperial envoy's hands raised him without effort, and Ming Qingda had to stand.
The conversation between official and merchant began calmly and seriously. Fan Xian looked at him and asked, "What did you want to explain?"
