"Junior?" Zhang Zidao scratched the tip of his nose, "It's been a long time since anyone called me that.
Before I could publicly reveal his identity to avoid misunderstanding.
Zhang Zidao kicked the person with the chair from the head seat to the ground, more surprisingly, the person on the chair spat blood, but the wooden chair remained intact.
The one who spat blood was a frail old man, and the sound of a dislocated spine could be heard.
The elderly man, with gray hair, lay trembling pitifully on the ground.
He was truly pitiful.
"Elder Jia!" The core elders of the Zhang Family exclaimed and drew their weapons.
With tensions rising, they were ready to attack us, "Are you looking to die? You dare harm Elder Jia!"
Zhang Zidao said to me, "My dear disciple, move the chair."
"Yes, Master." I lifted the chair from the ground, whispering to Zhang Zidao, "Let me help you explain this, causing trouble on our own turf isn't ideal."
