Hearing Feng Jun's words, Zhou Xiaotong frowned at first, then smiled.
When a cold, glamorous beauty with such noble bearing smiled, it was like a hundred flowers blooming at once, as though spring had arrived early.
Unfortunately, her smile lasted only a brief moment before fading. "It's nothing. I was just curious... are there still martial arts masters these days?"
At that, Feng Jun turned to Little Sai and spoke with a dark expression. "Is it interesting, gossiping about people behind their backs?"
Little Sai was seated at the very edge. He spread his hands helplessly. "Sister Xiaotong asked. I couldn't exactly lie to her, could I?"
Feng Jun could not fault that logic, so he turned to Zhou Xiaotong. "There are still martial arts masters these days, but as the saying goes, no matter how good your kung fu is, you still fear a kitchen knife... Who can stop bullets?"
Zhou Xiaotong nodded, clearly accepting his explanation, but that was not how she put it. "I just wanted to see for myself how skilled the martial arts master Brother Peng keeps talking about really is."
Feng Jun had been wondering why Zhou Xiaotong's entourage had urged him over for a toast. Only now did he realize that they were curious about what kind of martial arts master could make Yuan Huapeng entertain him so warmly.
"My skills are pretty ordinary," he said with a smile. "When I was little, I loved rice cakes and could grab several at a time. So my mother gave me a nickname... Master."
"And what about Grandmaster?" the young dandy interjected at just the right moment, obvious displeasure on his face. "Did you wet the bed a lot as a child, so you got another nickname—Big Wet?"
Feng Jun could not even be bothered