In a courtyard filled with the fragrance of plants and trees, a gentle breeze was blowing.
The middle-aged man, who was called the Tea Master, was sitting on a rocking chair and lightly fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan.
Sunlight fell on him, and he appeared relaxed.
It didn't matter whether one was above or below the status of an immortal.
As long as there was justice in their heart, and they were bound by principles, no one could do anything to this "rule-abiding" man.
The weak were pitiable, but when they encountered a principled person, sometimes the strong were the ones to be pitied.
In front of him stood a young man dressed like a scholar.
This young man was an immortal, but the Tea Master did not care at all.
He was confident he had the upper hand.
He was just waiting for this person to offer enough benefits, especially since he was already doing so.