"Village chief!"
"Village chief!"
At that moment, seven or eight disciples with the title "Black Wind Village" above their heads gathered around, their expressions tense, excited, and thrilled.
There was a kind of nervousness in them, like masked mountain bandits who had posed for many years and were finally meeting their boss. They were thrilled but also worried about being disliked and dismissed by the boss.
The shame and guilt of not being purely from the Black Wind Village.
It was like meeting one's father-in-law after juggling two boats, wanting to greet him but feeling a lack of confidence.
"Hello!"
Jiang Dali looked at the group of nervous and excited Eight Desolates Disciples, his face showing a kind and impartial smile, as if he were a father to all, "I never expected to encounter my own brothers in a foreign land; truly, there is no place in the world where we couldn't meet. Today, let's sit down and drink together!"
"Ah, this!..."
