Chief don't slap in the face

A middle-aged man found the steward.

"Butler Zhu was joking, don't be in a hurry, when you leave, it won't be too late to settle the settlement!"

The manager smiled and complimented: "I can trust Mr. Zhu's credit!"

Hearing this, Xia Ye stopped, and the others naturally did not leave.

"What are you still doing here? Get out of the way!"

The steward chased them away, Zhu's team had a lot of luggage, and the servants were all busy, he thought Xia Ye and his party were getting in the way.

"From what you said, they didn't pay the deposit, and they came later than us, but because they are from the Zhu tribe, they took up the room we reserved?"

Xia Ye asked.

"Why are you talking so much nonsense?"

The steward was a little annoyed, because it was said that the Zhu clan has a population of 10,000+, and the scale is not small, so it is naturally the target of wooing.

Hearing that the steward insulted Xia Ye, Jiaduo, Song Guo, and Friday raised their brows and were about to explode, but Yi Liwei moved faster and rushed out with a swish, slapping the steward's big face.

Snapped!

Crisp applause resounded through the hall of the guild hall.

"You dare to hit me?"

The steward was stunned for a moment, and then he became angry, especially half of his face was swollen, and he still felt a fishy smell in his mouth, no need to ask, he must be bleeding from the beating.

"This is to keep you in awe and respect for our Great Chief!"

Yi Liwei's voice was cold.

"Do you know what this place is? Mojia Guild Hall, Mojia, have you heard of it?"

The steward was in a hurry.

"Stop barking, if you don't know, I won't come yet!"

Xia Ye was in a bad mood.

"Huh? Old Mo, what's wrong with your face? The food is so good recently, you've gained weight again!"

A joking voice sounded.

The steward, Old Mo, turned his head, and saw the steward and two servants standing at the door watching the show, which made him feel even more ashamed.

"Where is the guard house? Everyone has knocked on the door, where did you die?"

Just as Lao Mo was roaring, a group of guards with big arms and round waists rushed out aggressively and surrounded Xia Ye and his party.

"Steward, is there a problem?"

Butler Zhu asked.

"No problem, no problem, go to rest first!"

After Lao Mo finished talking with a smile, when he switched to Xia Ye's side, his face changed: "You guys just want to leave now, but you can't. If you dare to come to the Mo's Guild Hall to make trouble, you are dead."

With his back against the Mo family, Old Mo is full of confidence, as long as he is not a chief or immediate family member of a big tribe, he is not afraid.

"How do you plan to let us die?"

Jia Duo sneered.

"No, I'm so angry now, I want to beat him!"

Song Guo rolled up his sleeves.

"Let's beat it!"

Xia Ye doesn't care. With his relationship with Mo Wuheng, whether it's personal friendship or profit, even if the clubhouse is demolished, there will be no retaliation. He just doesn't want to make it too ugly, but the attitude of the manager makes him He is very upset.

In fact, Xia Ye's words also showed that he was angry with the city defense officer. After all, he is not a saint, and he doesn't have the heart to do it himself.

As soon as Xia Ye finished speaking, Xiao Songguo started to trot with his short legs, followed by a vertical leap, his body was lifted off the ground, parallel to the ground, with his feet together, he kicked towards the steward like a cannonball.

"Take down that alien girl!"

As soon as the manager finished speaking, he was kicked on the waist by Song Guo's little feet in buckskin boots.

boom!

The steward rolled over more than ten meters away, smashing several pieces of furniture.

"Hey, this blindfolded man is so bold, how dare he make trouble in the Mohist Guild Hall?"

The servants of the Gongshu Guild Hall were astonished. Although the two were rivals, they still recognized each other's strength. It was a colossus, and the general tribal chiefs couldn't afford to provoke them.

"Oops, my waist!"

Old Mo wailed: "Why are you still standing there stupidly? Break their dog legs for me!"

Just when the guards were about to make a move, they roared and scolded.

"Stop it all!"

A gray-bearded old man came out with the help of a maid, glanced at the hall, and said with a bad expression, "What's going on?"

"Master!"

The steward got up, trotted to the old man's side, adding oil and vinegar was a burst of reporting, while looking at Xia Ye with resentment in his eyes.

The curator frowned.

"I can't let them stay and drive away the son of the great prophet of the Zhu tribe, right?"

Steward complains.

"Shall we invite these people to the hall?"

The servant of the Gongshu Guild asked.

"Are you stupid? You want the people that the Mohist Guild doesn't want. Doesn't that mean we are inferior to them?"

Stewardship lessons.

"The steward is right!"