Back at Douqiong Martial Arts Hall.
Li Bashan walked straight into the dojo, his tiger-like eyes fixed on Hong Ya.
Hong Ya, less than 1.5 meters tall, habitually squatted on a chair, her small face buried in a bowl, revealing only a bun of tied-up hair.
Suddenly, Hong Ya felt an intense sense of oppression.
She lifted her head warily, licking the grains of rice off her lips with her tongue, and protectively cradling the bowl like a chick guarding its food, she said helplessly, "Senior Brother, your food was specifically set aside by Aunt Wei for you, so don't worry, there's plenty left, you'll have enough to eat."
Li Bashan glanced carefully at the food in Hong Ya's bowl, reciting a string of dishes in his mind as if reading a menu: "Cabbage tofu, chicken drumstick, braised meatballs, beef cubes…"
