Chapter 539 - 554: Doesn’t Really Support It

When Mr. Lin demanded their table, An Ning and Zhao Pandi lifted it in perfect unison.

"Sir, please remember to pay the hotel for the table you’re purchasing."

"Also, we do charge a service fee for delivery. It doesn’t have to be much, just eight or ten thousand will be fine."

An Ning and Zhao Pandi went back and forth, one after the other, leaving Mr. Lin standing there in a daze. ’Am I really here to buy a table?’ he wondered.

"Are you two insane? I want your spot! What would I do with the table?"

An Ning and Zhao Pandi glanced at each other and let out a collective "oh" of sudden understanding. With a THUD, the table they had moved came crashing down.

"AAAAARGH—!"

Mr. Lin let out a scream like a stuck pig. His face flushed beet red as he tried to lift the table, which didn’t even look that heavy.

"Somebody! Help! Are you all blind?!"

Several waiters rushed over. With perfect tacit understanding, An Ning and Zhao Pandi stepped back to enjoy the show.

"One, two, three—lift—"

"Lift—"

"One, two, three—"

"AGH— You’re all useless!"

Despite Mr. Lin’s shouting and the waiters’ straining, the table barely budged. Each time, they managed to lift it less than a millimeter before their hands would suddenly go limp. The table would drop, and Mr. Lin would let out a scream that threatened to tear his throat out.

All eyes in the restaurant were now fixed on them. Mr. Lin’s female companion was so embarrassed she couldn’t stand it. She wanted to leave but felt it would be too awkward to walk out now.

"AGH— I’ll run this entire hotel out of business!"

"You two country bumpkins, lift it now!"

From their prime viewing spot off to the side, An Ning and Zhao Pandi exchanged glances. Then, they both looked behind them and said in unison, "Who’s a country bumpkin?"

"Do you think he’s talking to you?"

"Can’t be. Can someone asking for a favor be that arrogant?"

"People who aren’t right in the head are always like that."

"Oh, then I definitely don’t dare to help. Back in my village, even if you feed a rabid dog, it’ll still bite you."

"You make a good point. I think he’s worse than a rabid dog."

The two of them were clearly enjoying themselves, each insult more scathing than the last.

Boiling with rage from the pain in his foot, Mr. Lin finally played his trump card.

He pointed at An Ning and Zhao Pandi, his eyes glaring as if he wanted to devour them. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"We do."

An Ning and Zhao Pandi nodded in unison and spoke at the same time.

"The village idiot."

"Hahahaha! Your village has one too, right?"

"What a coincidence."

"It’s not so surprising. See? Hong Kong has one too."

"Makes sense!"

With one trading barbs and the other egging her on, they were completely grinding Mr. Lin’s face into the dirt.

"Fine! Just fine! Don’t even think about walking out of this hotel today!"

"Who might this be, speaking with such authority? A guest of our Hu Family can’t walk out of a Hu Family hotel?"

A new voice, one that didn’t belong to the current scene, echoed from the entrance.

An elderly gentleman in a traditional Tang suit walked in, leaning on a dragon-headed cane. He was followed by more than a dozen bodyguards in black suits.

With an entourage like that, he hardly looked like one of the good guys.

"Mr. Hu."

"Mr. Hu."

"Mr. Hu."

Everyone who saw the old man bowed deeply, one after another.

He was a regular fixture in the Hong Kong papers. No one expected to run into him in the hotel restaurant today.

Of course, Mr. Lin knew of Mr. Hu Sr. To be precise, Mr. Hu Sr. was from his grandfather’s generation—a man with real power.

"Grandpa Hu."

"Oh, and who might this be? Isn’t this the little grandson from the... what’s-their-name family?"

Mr. Lin didn’t dare to breathe too loudly. The pain in his foot was suddenly the last thing on his mind.

"It’s me, I’m—"

Before Mr. Lin could finish, Mr. Hu Sr. walked right past him. The old man hadn’t even bothered to listen, ignoring him completely. It left a bitter taste in Mr. Lin’s mouth, but he didn’t dare say a word.

"Master An! What brings you here to eat? Was the service not to your liking?"

Mr. Hu Sr. radiated enthusiasm. He humbly approached An Ning and offered his hand.

"Hello."

An Ning merely gave a slight nod, not extending her own hand.

"It’s best for those of us in the Mystic Sect to have minimal physical contact."

With that one sentence, the tiny seed of resentment that had begun to sprout in Mr. Hu Sr.’s heart vanished completely.

"You’re right. That was inconsiderate of me."

Following that, Mr. Hu Sr. solicitously asked An Ning about how she slept last night, if she had eaten and drunk well, and other very ordinary matters.

It was precisely these ordinary questions that made An Ning seem so extraordinary.

’Who on earth is this person? So young, and they call her Master An? Is there a Master An in the world of Mysticism?’

Most of the people dining here were from the upper echelons of society, yet none of them had ever heard the name "Master An."

"Well now, Hu, you’re not playing fair, getting here so early!"

"You must have come to speak with Master An."

"So improper of you."

Two more groups of people entered the restaurant. They were the heads of Sanhe and Xingmen, who walked in with broad smiles. They made a beeline for An Ning and paid their respects.

An Ning maintained her indifferent attitude, but the three tycoons didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, remaining as humble as ever.

At this very moment, who Master An was no longer mattered.

Because everyone now understood one thing: this person was not to be provoked.

Mr. Lin, his foot still pinned by the table, was already mentally planning his life after the inevitable amputation.

’Actually, living with one leg wouldn’t be so bad. At least I’m rich, right?’

An Ning was exchanging pleasantries with the three family heads when she suddenly glanced over at Mr. Lin. She kindly walked over and, with a single hand, lifted the table that four men had been unable to budge.

"My name is An Ning. Consider today a minor punishment. If you’re thinking of getting revenge—"

"No! No, I don’t! I absolutely don’t! Not in the slightest! No, no, my mind is a complete blank! It’s full of useless straw, there’s nothing in there!"

Mr. Lin looked as if he wanted to crack his own head open to prove it to An Ning.

An Ning waved her hand dismissively. Looking as though he’d just been granted a royal pardon, Mr. Lin limped away.

Once that was settled, An Ning turned to the three family heads. "If you’re not busy, how about you accompany me on a trip to the Jiang family?"

"Of course."

"It would be my honor."

"To be able to accompany Master An is a profound honor."

That last bit of flattery was so over the top, even An Ning felt a bit of second-hand embarrassment for the man.

What she didn’t know was that while she had enjoyed a perfectly relaxing evening, these three had been in a meeting all night long.

It was only after a full night of discussion, backed by the earnest testimony of several Mystic Masters, that they had arrived at today’s outcome.

An Ning walked ahead with a stern expression, Zhao Pandi following close behind her.

Behind them were dozens of menacing henchmen in black. An entourage so intimidating, even a vengeful ghost would think twice before crossing their path.

Their journey to the Jiang family estate was completely unobstructed. The moment An Ning stepped through the gates, she casually slapped her hand through the air, shattering their Feng Shui Formation.

"Tell the Feng Shui Master behind this that if he has a problem with it, he can come find me."

"No, no, not at all! Master Feng asked me to tell you that if he were physically able, he would have come himself."

An Ning turned and asked, "Who’s Master Feng?"

"He’s the one with all the broken bones."

"Oh. In that case, I suppose he really isn’t physically able."