You Haven't Counted One and Two Yet

The black-clad maid glanced at the woman in white. Seeing her mistress's face darken, she immediately snapped, "No way! You said it yourself—these buns are supposed to be made with pure lean meat. You have to make me buns with only lean meat!"

The old lady looked helpless. She brought over the bowl of bun filling and said, "Miss, take a look. This is our filling—there's barely any fatty meat in it at all."

Indeed, the bowl of bun filling was almost entirely lean meat, with only a few tiny specks of fat mixed in.

"How can you say there's no fat? What's this then?" The black-clad maid pointed at a speck of fat. "If I say redo it, you redo it! Why are you talking so much nonsense?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible. We have to pack up and head home before dark!" The old lady waved her hand. "Miss, maybe you should eat somewhere else!"

With that, the old lady picked up her bowl of bun filling and started walking away.

Unexpectedly, the black-clad maid's eyes flashed with malice. She grabbed a basket of buns from the table and hurled it straight at the old lady.

With a loud "smack!" the buns hit the old lady squarely on the back.

It was obvious that this black-clad maid was a Spirit Practitioner.

The old lady cried out and fell to the ground from the force of the throw. Her copper bowl crashed to the ground with a clang, and the bun filling spilled everywhere.

"Oh dear! Old woman!" The old man, who had been busy by the fire, rushed over, angrily shouting at the black-clad maid, "Young lady, how can you be so unreasonable!"

Bobby stood up too and hurried over to help the old lady up, frowning as he said, "Hey! If you don't want to eat, just leave! She didn't even charge you, and you still hit her?"

"So what if I hit her? What's it to you?" The black-clad maid replied arrogantly. "Mind your own business, you busybody!"

"Who are you calling a dog?" Bobby snapped, furious.

"You, of course! Filthy commoner, you're not even as good as a dog or a pig!"

Grace glanced at the woman in white. She just sat there quietly, not stopping her maid, not even raising an eyebrow, as if none of this concerned her.

"Why do you bite whoever you see?" Bobby said. "If you're sick, you should get treated early! Don't come out here causing trouble!"

"Who are you calling sick?" The woman strode over to Bobby. "Say that again if you dare."

"You. Are. Sick! Totally nuts!" Bobby repeated, word for word.

The woman drew her sword and swung it at Bobby.

She moved like the wind—fast as lightning.

Her cultivation level was clearly not low.

With a crisp "ding!" the woman's sword snapped in two.

What broke the sword was a single chopstick.

Grace's chopstick.

She walked over, stood protectively in front of Bobby, and said just one word to the black-clad maid: "Out!"

The black-clad maid was stunned for a moment, but she wasn't afraid. "Who are you telling to get out?" she asked.

"Both of you," Grace replied.

"You've got some nerve! Do you even know who my mistress is?"

"No idea," Grace said, eager to get back on the road and not interested in wasting time. "I'll count to three. The farther you get out of here, the better!"

"What did you say?" The black-clad maid looked absolutely furious.

"Three." As soon as Grace finished speaking, she kicked the black-clad maid out of the bun shop with a loud "bang!" The maid flew two or three yards before landing hard on the ground.

"You... you..." The maid struggled to her feet. "You didn't even count one and two!"

Grace smiled casually and asked, "Are you leaving or not? If you don't, I'll make you eat this whole bowl of filling!"

"You—"

"Achan." The woman in white finally spoke.

"Miss." Achan hurried back to her mistress's side.

"Let's go." The woman in white picked up the bamboo hat from the table.