"Dizzy?" Zhou Ping was stunned. Then his expression changed drastically as the world spun before his eyes. "Not good, the tea is poisoned!"
He struggled to rise, but his whole body felt limp and weak. He dropped back into his seat and muttered groggily, "What's going on?"
Seeing this, Lu Ye knew that the poisoning had nothing to do with Zhou Ping.
He had noticed it earlier. There was poison in the tea, for the Talent Tree had reacted strangely. He had merely pretended not to know.
Yet Zhou Ping had been poisoned as well. Since he had not arranged for someone to poison them, then...
The rustle of fluttering robes sounded. From the inner part of the Side Hall, a potbellied man strode out, carrying himself with a certain air of authority. Behind him followed a half-aged elder dressed like a scholar and holding a feather fan.
With a clatter, another group of people entered through the doors, every one of them wearing an unfriendly expression.
"City Lord?" Zhou Ping froze at the sight of this display, utterly unable to understand what was happening.
The City Lord said nothing. He merely sat down in his own Grand Tutor's Chair, his gaze dark and gloomy.
The half-aged scholar stood beside the City Lord, looking as though he hated iron for not becoming steel. He pointed his feather fan at Zhou Ping. "Boy Zhou Ping, you've caused a tremendous disaster!"
"Mr. Meng, what do you mean by that?" Zhou Ping asked indignantly. He might have been upright and straightforward, but he was not stupid. If he had not understood what was happening just now, he had a guess by this point.
Mr. Meng sighed. "Is the Black Scarf Army so easy to provoke? Thirty Black Scarves were killed before the city