"He is a blood relative of this humble Daoist. Forgive the spectacle, honored guest."
Zhang Fang apologized and was about to rise and go outside.
But before he could get up, a burly man strode in ahead of anyone else. Tall and broad, with a face full of whiskers, he brought a gust of wind in with him.
At the sight of Chen Cuo, the man looked surprised. He scratched his head. "Oh, you have a guest!"
Chen Cuo smiled and gave a slight bow. "That North River Water Lord you mentioned..."
"You heard?" The man waved a hand. "This isn't something you can get involved in. Old Daoist Zhang, have your guest step out so we can settle my business first..."
"Zhang Jingbei, enough of that nonsense!" Zhang Fang cut him off at once, then cupped his hands toward Chen Cuo. "Please don't take offense, Daoist Friend. My nephew is a rough fellow."
"Not at all." Chen Cuo naturally took no offense. The man had appeared at just the right time. "As it happens, the North River Water Lord sent me an invitation too..."
"You have an invitation too?" Surprise crossed Zhang Jingbei's face, then understanding seemed to dawn. "So that's why you came to visit Old Daoist Zhang." He plopped down and turned to Zhang Fang. "Perfect. Old Daoist, why not explain it all at once? Save him asking again."
Zhang Fang's face darkened.
Zhang Jingbei was the only son of his elder brother in the secular world, and the sole heir of their generation. He had been doted on and had grown willful, but this time Zhang Fang absolutely could not let the boy run wild. The North River Water Lord was unfathomable, and he had no wish to see his nephew drawn into it!
With that