Zhao Yi spat out the cigarette butt from his mouth, stepped on it with his shoe, then raised his hands and slapped his cheeks on both sides, not hard but quite loudly.
"Li, I've realized that the Yin family really knows how to give face to my Old Zhao."
"One acquaintance, second time familiar."
"Hey, not to mention, it really feels that way. When I die, these experiences must be etched on my tombstone to show off a bit. Do you think passing little ghosts will be scared enough to bow to me?"
"Can little ghosts just wander into the ancestral tomb of the Jiujiang Zhao Family?"
"Once I finish Zou Jiang and take charge of the Zhao Family, I'll change the traditions. I'll scatter the ashes of those old ones who refuse to die, and all future Zhao Family members will have to cremate."
"Oh."
"It's not that I'm extreme; the closer I get to my ancestors, the more guilty I feel.
