The successor's celebration banquet was rowdy. It had been a long time since Yan Ping suffered from headaches. The troublemakers were not from other sects, and as the sect leader, she felt embarrassed by the hooligan behaviour from her sect elders. Clearly, the higher one rose in rank in the Mystical Qilin Sect, the less they cared about manners.
"Come, little one! Sit on Elder Zhu's lap. It's easier to reach for the meat if you're higher."
Standing beside, Elder Quan slapped him.
"Stop it! What will you do if Zhao Mingfeng charges into our sect to cut off your hands for inappropriate contact with a minor?! You're drunk! Go back and sleep already! Go cuddle with your wife's corpse instead!"
