The Nine Fire Dragon Lord thought to himself: since he'd already received that person's order from the Black Market, it was inevitable that he had to join Nanming Village. Since that's the case, better a short pain than a long one—hurry up and get it over with.
He thought this way, and acted this way.
The Nine Fire Dragon Lord sat at the main table, pinched a pastry, and put it in his mouth. After a few bites, he showed displeasure: "These snacks aren't even enough to fill the gaps between my teeth. Bring me good wine and good dishes!"
"How come his table has wine and dishes?"
The Nine Fire Dragon Lord looked at Flowing Gold Guest with dissatisfaction.
Flowing Gold Guest felt as if he were sitting on a bed of thorns. He was arrogant toward Ning Zhuo, but when facing a Nascent Soul Great Cultivator making trouble, he didn't dare put on any airs.
He had just wanted to reply, the words reaching his lips, yet he couldn't spit them out.
How was he supposed to say it?
