The once exquisitely decorated, luxurious dining hall was now completely unrecognizable. The reed mats on the floor had been rolled up, and in their place stood a simple table and a stool.
On the table sat an enormous pot, from which steam curled up, carrying the rich aroma of meat.
A man sat at its center, devouring his meal.
His chopsticks were a blur, carrying piece after piece of beef to his mouth in a constant stream. Every so often, he would shovel in some rice or take a bite of flatbread.
For the two young women, who had undergone strict aristocratic training since childhood, his table manners were simply unimaginable.
The shock to their sensibilities was immense.
Yet, far from being repulsed, the two women were utterly captivated.
This was especially true for Takizawa Sayon. Finally seeing her idol in person, she was trembling with excitement.
She finally understood why her friend had been so excited.
Because this Master Wu was far more handsome than his portrait.
