"What business did Mr. Zhao use to make his name?" Chen Yi pressed on the chair but did not sit down: "A chef?"
"Why does the Sir think it's a chef?"
"If not a chef, then on the palm…" Chen Yi smiled faintly: "Why would there be calluses?"
Zhao Yan naturally loosened his grip on the chair, placed his hands behind him, and said, "Sit down, please sit."
Chen Yi gracefully took his seat.
Zhao Yan stepped back slightly and sat down as well, signaling something with his hand behind him.
In the dimly lit, spacious private room, under the long curtains, the assassins from Lifeng Pavilion crouched down and exited through the hidden door.
Jiang Shangli also sat down, laughing: "How is the conversation between you two? It seems you've left me, the County Magistrate, out."
"How dare we neglect the County Magistrate." Zhao Yan stood up to pour him wine and said, "But there is a matter I'd like to ask the County Magistrate—what did Young Master Long do before?"
