A Bully's True Colors, a Scholar's Rashness

Su Che spoke without haste, and everyone below heard him clearly.

The clamor at the surrounding tables also died down for a moment. Men and women with their arms around each other watched Su Che, seemingly trying to work out what was happening.

The red candles crackled. Su Che first stroked the saber hilt on the table, then picked up the chopsticks beside him, took a piece of fatty chicken, and forcibly stuffed it into Marvelous Madam's mouth.

"Did I make myself clear?"

For a moment, those below had no idea how to respond.

While they stood there stunned, it was the old veteran, the Yin-Yang Dharma King, who stepped forward to mediate.

"Ah, since you've opened this sort of business, well, as they say, walk by the river often enough and your shoes are bound to get wet. Consider this a chance to wash your feet. If you find it refreshing and pleasant, you might wash them more often in the future. Why not hurry and bring the girls up, proprietor? We have plenty of silver. Once we've eaten and drunk our fill and are ready to hit the road, we'll settle up, money for goods. Wouldn't that be splendid?"

The Yin-Yang Dharma King took several silver ingots from his robes and gently placed them on the table.

The old veteran also displayed a little trick. With a light tap of his fingers, he drove the silver ingots into the tabletop without changing their shape in the slightest.

Silver was soft by nature, while the establishment's tables were all hardwood. Such a means of embedding the ingots in the table was clearly beyond an ordinary man.

The imposing, tattooed brute narrowed his eyes at the ingots the Yin-Yang Dharma King had arranged on the table. Each probably weighed ten