Uncle Yu heard me pleading for them from the side. The anger on his face gradually subsided a little.
Huang Yougui and Li Feihu, whose backsides had been beaten bloody, both looked at me gratefully.
Then Uncle Yu spoke.
"You two aren't going anywhere this month. Stay at the hospital and work as volunteers for a month. Then I'll consider whether to keep you in the sect."
The moment Uncle Yu said that, Huang Yougui and Li Feihu dropped to their knees with a thud. Ignoring the pain in their backsides, they kowtowed to Uncle Yu.
"Thank you, Master!"
"Thank you for your mercy, Grandmaster!"
But the group of cafeteria aunties standing nearby had faces full of shock and disbelief.
In their eyes, Uncle Yu was just a cook—a cook at a hospital, not some head chef at a five-star hotel.
Besides, what kind of era was this? Prepackaged meals were everywhere. Who still wanted to learn how to cook?
Fine if he wouldn't teach them. Who cared?
Two middle-aged men were kowtowing and expressing gratitude in front of so many people. To them, it seemed utterly ridiculous.
"Are you kidding me? Is becoming Yu Long's disciple really that great? They're even kowtowing."
"Exactly! It's pretty ridiculous."
The older women kept talking.
But none of us paid them any mind.
Uncle Yu merely snorted coldly and turned to the crowd.
"Move along, move along. Doesn't the kitchen have work to do? Why are you all standing around here?"
With that, Uncle Yu returned to the kitchen alone.
The other older women rolled their eyes at Uncle Yu before dispersing and heading back to the kitchen.
Tian Yong helped Huang Yougui up.
"Master, take it slow. That's just how Grandmaster is when he loses his temper."
Huang Yougui rubbed