Chan Zian couldn't stop staring at the house someone as rich as Ming Baozhai was staying in. Heaps of paperwork were piled up on the only table in the house, and the flowers kept by the window were no longer fresh.
His staring was interrupted by a crashing sound in the kitchen area, running through the seals and scrolls on the ground, he made his way into the kitchen.
"What happened?"
"There was no need to come running, this kettle just feel on my head." Ming Baozhai said, once more belittling his sufferings, in a bid to not show weakness.
Chan Zian noticed that the kitchen was the nearest and best organized part of the house. "Ming Baozhai, when was the last time you made something to eat?" He casually asked, crouching down to pick up the kettle.
Ming Baozhai started counting his fingers, genuinely confused, because most of the food he ate was given to him by his deputy, Hao-Yu.
