"I haven't had anything greasy in days. My stomach can't take it."
Qi Yishou held a chicken leg in one hand, grease dripping from his mouth, while his other hand clutched his stomach.
At the same time, his stomach rumbled audibly.
"Pedantic Scholar, get over here and carry me. I need to take a shit."
"Right away, Shopkeeper."
The pedantic Scholar trotted over with a fawning smile, hoisted Shopkeeper Qi onto his back, and started walking toward the edge of the camp.
In just a moment, they were dozens of yards away.
The pedantic Scholar glanced back toward the camp. Figures flickered in the light of the bonfire, and he could faintly hear the sound of conversations.
Then, he looked forward again. His gaze turned grim and the smile vanished from his face. His voice, however, remained the same—fawning, but with a hint of coldness—as he said to Shopkeeper Qi:
