The restaurant had yet to recover from the earlier commotion.
Broken table lay scattered across the floor, while the burly cultivator groaned in pain beneath a pile of shattered chairs. The surrounding diners wisely lowered their heads, pretending they had seen nothing.
The young man carrying the golden fan leisurely walked over.
Several beautiful women followed closely behind him, though none dared utter a word.
Reaching Tyler's table, Yun Feng casually pulled out a chair and sat down as though he owned the restaurant.
He looked at the unconscious cultivator on the floor before turning towards Tyler.
"Sorry. My servant was short-tempered."
His voice was calm and indifferent.
There wasn't the slightest trace of apology on his face. It sounded less like an apology and more like a routine greeting.
Tyler glanced at the unconscious man before smiling, "He certainly has quite the temper."
Yun Feng ignored the sarcasm and flicked open his golden fan. "My name is Yun Feng."
