The moment Zhang Xiaohua heard this, his expression changed drastically. He reached into his robe, pulled out a lump of silver, tossed it onto the table, and called, "Shopkeeper, settle the bill."
With that, he rose and went downstairs.
The tea waiter hurried over and, seeing the large lump of silver on the table, quickly shouted, "Honored guest, this is far too much silver!"
But by the time he chased to the stairway, there was not a soul in sight.
Hui Chun Valley, at the hour when the morning sun first rose, was brushed in orange-gold light before Herb Hall, and everything brimmed with vigorous life.
Yet at this moment, the dozen or so people in the hall were all furrowing their brows. How could their eyes hold any appreciation for such splendid scenery?
Valley Master Nie sat at the head of the hall, his left arm wrapped in white cloth. Though the cloth was pure white, bloodstains faintly seeped through it. His black hair was somewhat disheveled, and a large patch on the left side had been cut much shorter, as though sliced off by a sharp weapon. Looking at the others in the hall, aside from Nie Qianyu and Nie Qianrong, everyone bore injuries of varying severity. Even Old Master Yue of the Lu Ming Sect had gained a slanting blade wound across his face. It would not kill him, but it was enough to ruin his looks.
Everyone's eyes were bloodshot, clearly showing that they had not rested last night. Nie Qianyu and Nie Qianrong were especially pale and looked barely able to hold on.
Valley Master Nie looked at his two daughters with heartache and said, "Xiao Yu, Qianrong, go rest for a while first. They attacked all night and suffered countless casualties themselves. They likely