"Master Li, we merely haven't seen each other for a few years, but you already can't recognize my voice?" Ye Wanwan asked.
"Haven't seen each other for a few years… Could it be… You're … P-president B-bai Feng!" The elderly man was incredulous.
"Heh… It looks like Master Li isn't muddle-headed… Since you aren't, why did you do such muddle-headed things?" Ye Wanwan's voice became more imposing.
"Sir President… when did you return? Didn't you die… No no no, there's a misunderstanding about this matter… There must be some misunderstanding." The elderly man's voice trembled slightly.
"Master Li, let's not waste words. You're a great painter, so you naturally paint on paper and use your hand to paint. Tell me, should I send paper over to you, or should you send your hand over to me?" Ye Wanwan asked with a snort.
