The Penhu patriarch was stunned. He had never expected Zhu Youliang to make such a demand. He hurriedly put on a humble smile. "My daughter has been unruly since childhood and is unfit to serve Your Excellency. How about this: I'll find ten—no, twenty beauties for you, sir, and have them serve you well."
In an instant, Zhu Youliang's expression turned cold. He glared at the Penhu patriarch with ill intent. "Old Penhu, don't refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit. My taking a liking to Penjing is a blessing for your family and your clan. If you don't agree, I won't refine the remaining Witch Pills for you either. Your Pen clan can just wait to decline."
The Penhu patriarch was torn, struggling for a long while before finally gritting his teeth. "Very well..." He had barely begun to speak when a burly young man rushed out and cut him off. "Father, Zhu Youliang is a devil incarnate! How many beauties has he drained dry over the years? You're gambling your sister's life!"
The Penhu patriarch squeezed his wrinkled eyes shut. His whole body trembled uncontrollably as he barked in a voice like stone scraping against ancient rock, "Chimao, Cangying, go! Now! Bring Penjing here at once." "Father!" The burly young man cried out in anguish, tears as big as beans spilling from his eyes as he reached for the Penhu patriarch.
The Penhu patriarch swept his great hand, brushing him aside. "For the future of my Pen clan, Penjing will have to bear this grievance." Zhu Youliang chuckled. "You make me sound far worse than I am, Patriarch Penhu—as if I didn't know how to cherish a beauty. Don't worry. I'll treat Miss Penjing with the utmost tenderness."
A bitter smile creased the Penhu patriarch's rugged face.