The same thing was happening at Hundred Feather Palace.
Over at Fu Nanshan's end, the abbot did all the talking while he only replied once in a long while, nearly giving the abbot a heart attack from anger.
At Hundred Feather Palace, however, Fu Wenzi was positively bouncing off the walls.
"I already told you there's none left, none! Master, you're not old enough to be hard of hearing yet, are you? I called home and asked."
Fu Wenzi's master held a horsetail whisk. The little old man was over seventy, but he certainly ran nimbly.
Especially when he was chasing down his troublesome disciple to beat him.
"You little brat, don't think I don't know your family sent you plenty separately. I don't believe you have none left. Even if there's none this time, what about next time?"
"Get some more benefits for our Hundred Feather Palace, understand? Aren't you usually such a smooth talker? Do I need to teach you even this much about dealing with people?"
Fu Wenzi answered as he ran.
"Now that's where you're wrong. You're asking me for a favor, and this is your attitude!"
The little old man's expression changed, and he hurled his whisk straight at him.
"Do you think that's why I'm chasing you down to beat you? Going home is one thing, but why did you empty out my room? My tea, my top-quality cinnabar, my finest set of brush, ink, paper, and inkstone-you even took my stool! And several pieces of wood and ore from my collection! Why didn't you just pack this old man up and take me home too, you brat?"
Fu Wenzi rubbed his nose guiltily. "Calm down, Master. Don't you still have some left? Once our tea plants are ready, I'll bring you back some