Back in Flowing Spring City, the grand hall of the Ge Clan estate presented a vastly different, yet equally tense spectacle.
Sitting heavily upon an oversized, reinforced golden throne was Patriarch Ge.
Much like his pampered son, the patriarch was fat as fuck, his massive, round frame practically overflowing from a set of extravagant, glittering gold robes.
Every single one of his sausage-like fingers was adorned with heavy, expensive spiritual jewelry, and thick jade necklaces strained against his triple chin as he nervously wiped his sweaty forehead with a silk handkerchief.
His small, piggish eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and deep worry as he stared at his son, Young Master Ge, who was currently trembling on the floor before him.
