Pressure from the Martial Arts Association, Chef Qin Gets Stubborn Again

Yes, things had gone seriously wrong. The director stared blankly at Chen Muyuan, who lay unconscious on the floor, and felt his heart turn to ice. Two people had gone down on today's show—unprecedented. And Chen Muyuan was a foreigner! That had been a heavy blow, too. What were they supposed to do?

He looked at the production chief, who thought, How should I know? Who told him to launch a sneak attack? The chief could at least judge that much.

But the Koreans at the side refused to let it go and began clamoring at the production crew for answers.

In an instant, the hall turned into a marketplace. As one side raised a fuss, the Xingyi practitioners refused to back down and fired back. A perfectly good studio had become a venue for squabbling.

The director was helpless, and the production chief smiled bitterly. This really was a first! Yes, Qin Fen had successfully screwed over Wulin Storm.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the director murmured.

"I know. The show might be ordered to clean up its act." They exchanged a look, both wearing miserable expressions. Everything went without saying.

Did they blame Qin Fen? Neither thought that way. It took two to tango, and the other party bore most of the responsibility. But he was a foreign guest, after all!

What the hell!

Liu Mang was all smiles. "Qin Fen is an interesting guy."

"Is he? I'd rather see how he gets himself out of this." Another middle-aged man smiled too, but his smile meant something entirely different. He was gloating—plainly put, he resented anyone more capable than himself.

"Master Qin, are you sure it'll be all right?" Sheng Xiaoying asked with concern.

Qin Fen's answer nearly drove her to despair. "Can I smoke here?