Chu Ping stared in shock at Feng Fuce's movements.
"Marquis, did you just lose your footing?"
It was the first time he had seen Feng Fuce sprawled on a table in such a sorry state.
Even after Feng Fuce got up and patted the dust off his clothes, Chu Ping still couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.
Feng Fuce's cold gaze slid over to him. "What, you never trip when you walk?"
Chu Ping finally couldn't help it and burst out laughing. "This lowly one only fell when I was a child. After growing up, I hardly ever fall anymore."
As he spoke, he started to walk toward Qingmei. He had only taken two steps when he was tripped by a bulge in the carpet underfoot.
With no image to speak of, he went "splat" and fell onto a yellow pearwood wardrobe to the side.
Feng Fuce let out a cold laugh. "Don't fall? Very steady, are you?"
Bai Zhi'er and Qingmei couldn't help but burst into peals of laughter.
Chu Ping grimaced in pain. "This lowly one was wrong."
