《Reborn Magician Tyrant [Old]》Chapter Seventeen

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Chapter Seventeen

Li Feng’s black tea and Lam Bai’s green tea arrives at the table, brought there by the same waitress from earlier, and they subconsciously sip on them until their food comes out later, by the same woman. Li Feng’s tea is a little weak, probably the waitress considering his age, but he likes it strong. Lam Bai’s tea is aromatic, gently complementing her womanly charm.

While waiting for their food, Lam Bai is approached by a young man, in his upper twenties, sporting a thick mustache. “Is this seat taken?” The man says, placing his hands on the seat between Li Feng and Lam Bai that’s facing the left wall.

“No, but,” Lam Bai says, but can’t speak anymore before the man talks over her.

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit here, then,” He says, and pulls the chair out and sits in it. Once sat, the man places his left elbow on the table and rests his head in his left hand, looking at Lam Bai.

“Young master?” Lam Bai asks Li Feng, hoping he’ll do something.

“Leave our table, vagrant,” Li Feng says, irritating the man.

“Young master?” The man questions, removing his elbow from the table and looking at Li Feng. “Is she your servant? I’ll buy her contract, fifty thousand coins.”

“My servant’s contract is worth much more than fifty thousand coins,” Li Feng says, scoffing at the man. “At least make an offer worthy of the time it takes to decline it.”

The clicks his tongue, looking down at Li Feng. “How does a brat like you get off on not showing your elder any respect?” The man asks, then turns back to Lam Bai with his elbow on the table, blocking Li Feng. “Surely you don’t enjoy working for this kid? I’ll make sure you have a job befitting your… qualities.”

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“The young master wishes for you to leave the table,” Lam Bai calmly says and takes her identification card from her pocket, showing it to the man. “You better leave, if you know what’s good for you.”

The identification card has very crude information, sometimes excluding certain traits from certain cards, but will at least have the holder’s name. In Lam Bai’s case, her identification card has her name, her date of birth, and the family she works for. Even in Quanchang, the Li family of Shijiang is not unknown. For an elite like the man harassing Lam Bai, knowing the surrounding influential families is essential. How could he not know the strength of the Li family?

“Oh, well, if you say that,” The man says, barely preventing himself from stuttering. “I’ll be returning to my table.”

The man stands and walks across the room, sitting at the table behind and to the right of Li Feng and Lam Bai’s table. Li Feng watches the man the entire time, eying him as he sits down and speaks softly to his table mates.

However, the man’s attempt at secrecy is futile; one of Li Feng’s magic spells allows him to hear things from a distance. With the spell, Li Feng creates a tunnel of rigid air from his ear to where the man is speaking, allowing the vibrations to travel much closer to him.

“You were right; the kid’s from the Li family in Shijiang,” The man says, speaking quietly.

“Does that mean we can’t touch them?” A second man at the table asks.

“Yeah,” The first man replies. “Rumor has it, the family head, Lord Wen, is a 86-Spirit cultivator.”

“That strong?! We wouldn’t last a second against someone like that,” The second man says.

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“Yep, yep,” The last man at the table agrees. Before Li Feng can follow the conversation any further, his spell is broken by the waitress walking through it.

“Roasted duck for you,” The waitress says, taking a plate with her right hand from a large serving tray in her left hand and placing it in front of Li Feng. “And dumplings for you. Anything else I can get you?” The waitress asks, lifting the serving tray over her head after giving Lam Bai her food.

“I’m fine,” Li Feng says, his attention slipping from the man to the roasted duck in front of him.

“We’re all good,” Lam Bai says and picks up the fork on her plate.

The waitress leaves, and Li Feng begins eating his food, slightly faster than Lam Bai. The roasted duck is sliced thin and piled high on Li Feng’s plate, and the crisp skin breaks off into crackling pieces as Li Feng chews on it. The oily meat, roasted to perfection, tastes greasy and delicious.

‘Much better than at the estate,’ Li Feng thinks, swallowing his first bite of the meal.

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