Zhang Sui'an and his two companions shared a silent glance, detecting the worry in each other's eyes.
Sit?
Where should they sit?
Could it be that the muck on the large square table was meant for them to eat?
Could they really consume the discolored tofu soup?
Even though they were martial artists at the Six Viscera Realm, they could not guarantee that they would stay in good health after eating such food.
What was Young Master Huang up to, presenting such a banquet of "pig food"?
Their faces stiffened, seemingly puppet-like as they were led around by Huang An.
It wasn't until they were three steps away from the large square table that Huang An seemed to notice the shabby and poor-quality meals laid out.
His pupils narrowed, his eyes bulging in rage. He whirled around to face Chen Yu and the others behind him. His fury was apparent; his eyes were wide as brass bells as he rebuked in a bellow: