In this battle of pride, Wei Fan was victorious, but his arms were so sore and weak he could only lean on the back of a chair to catch his breath.
The other apprentices were even worse off, collapsed nearby, unable to even straighten their backs.
"Master, who in the world are those people upstairs? That appetite... they can't be ordinary people..."
Hmm. Wei Fan thought for a moment. 'Well, Mu Zimo is rich. He can probably afford to feed them.' His mood instantly brightened. He pounded his aching back and turned to head upstairs.
Qiao An was still doing battle with the food in her large bowl, while Mu Zimo stood beside her, adding more food to her plate and pouring her water, worried she would choke from eating too fast.
When Wei Fan saw this, he felt it was almost painfully cringey to watch.
A man trying to court someone is just like a peacock, constantly showing off its feathers.
"How is everyone enjoying the meal?"
