Sure enough, Bai Huan laughed. "Brother Ren, tie your mount here. After you go in and eat, I'll take you to meet our Great Leader."
"Great Leader?" Zhang Xiaohua froze. Why did that sound like what bandits called their chief?
Still, he could not be bothered to fuss over it. "That would be best."
Bai Huan led Zhang Xiaohua through the door. Inside was a great hall comparable to the dining hall at Huanxi Mountain Villa, furnished with dozens of round tables. Many disciples were already seated in a disorderly fashion. Not one of them ate properly; plenty were stuffing themselves with food and drink. Half of them even held wine bowls as they ate and drank, filling the entire hall with the smell of liquor.
The moment Zhang Xiaohua smelled the alcohol, he frowned even more deeply. This was far too different from the Incense-Passing Cult he had imagined.
More than half the tables in the hall were occupied. The seating arrangement was quite obvious: fewer people sat on the right, while more sat on the left, and from time to time, they shouted something at those on the right.
As Bai Huan led Zhang Xiaohua inside, someone sharp-eyed on the left spotted them and shouted, "Ha ha, look at their Herb Division! They really did come from herbs—here comes another newcomer who looks like a blade of grass!"
There was nothing particularly funny about those words, yet the people from the Pill Division on the left burst into uproarious laughter, as though they had not been this happy in a long time. The Herb Division disciples on the right merely looked up, then lowered their heads again to eat. Those drinking continued drinking, paying no attention.
Bai Huan was clearly used to it. He brought Zhang Xiaohua to