"Hehehehehe..."
Ninghai Zen, like opening a gate, stepped into the Ancestor Hall that's as vast as a palace, and just in time to hear a strange laughter.
He saw his direct disciple, Bai Qilang, spreading his five fingers and pressing down on the head of a child roughly ten years old.
The child kept flailing, but with short limbs, he couldn't even reach the hem of Bai Qi's clothes.
"Ungrateful disciple..."
Ninghai Zen's temple veins throbbed, a rare obvious change in his mood.
"They say you can tell at three, and see the elderly at seven; Master had this temper from a young age, no wonder he grew up into Ning the Madman."
Bai Qi looked at the child with two little horn-shaped braids, lips tightly pursed and full of stubbornness.
Even though his whole person was held in Bai Qi's hand, he still tried to scratch with nails and bite with teeth.
Quite fits Ninghai Zen's disposition.
"Can't beat the Ancestor Master! Yet I can't deal with..."
