Two days later.
In the hall of the Zhu Residence.
Chief Zhu had risen early to prepare breakfast for his honored guest himself.
The whole family sat with White Garment.
Zhu Le'er kept looking distractedly toward the door.
"Ahem."
Chief Zhu knew what his daughter was worried about, so he reminded her not to neglect their guest.
White Garment held his phone in one hand, reading the news, and a bowl of soy milk in the other.
Beside him, Xiao Meng polished off half the table's food on his own, then let out a satisfied burp.
Tap, tap, tap.
Light footsteps drew closer.
Zhu Le'er, Chief Zhu, and White Garment all stopped what they were doing and looked toward the door.
Twelve youths carrying enormous canvas bags marched into the hall in step.
They wore ordinary clothes and had unremarkable looks, but every one of them resembled a warrior about to head into battle.
Their eyes all burned with fighting spirit.
"Chief Zhu, thank you for your hospitality. We have to go."
Little White Tiger bowed slightly. White Garment's lips curved upward, and he lowered his head to continue enjoying breakfast.
Chief Zhu nodded with a smile.
Zhu Le'er glanced at Old Ninth beside Little White Tiger with a complicated expression, only to meet Old Ninth's gaze.
Their eyes met, and Zhu Le'er hurriedly lowered her head.
"Drink more milk. You are what you eat."
"Pfft!"
Zhu Le'er's concern for Old Ninth and the others instantly gave way to a venomous glare.
Old Ninth always had a knack for ruining the mood with a remark or two.
"What are you going to do?"
Seeing the youths looking as though they were marching fearlessly to their deaths, Xiao Meng asked, "I heard you're all wanted out there."
"Tch." Old Ninth curled