"Amitabha... I'm telling you, benefactor, aren't you being a bit too mercenary!" Monk Wan Kong said, "It's just a roast duck you gave me! Do you really need to make such a fuss?"
"Pay up! Repaying debts is a matter of principle; if you eat my roast duck, you must pay for it." The middle-aged fatty stretched out his hand and demanded.
His stance was clear: without payment, there would be no negotiation.
Otherwise, come and wash dishes for a month to pay off your debt.
"You... you, look at you, benefactor, ai! Amitabha." Monk Wan Kong was truly helpless.
"Pay up quickly!" The middle-aged fatty was still adamantly demanding money.
"No money!" In the end, Monk Wan Kong, having no other choice, admitted defeat.
"Ha ha, you fake monk, you dare to come here and eat roast duck without money." The middle-aged fatty became instantly furious when he heard this. "Go! Get inside and wash dishes."
Saying that, he began to drag Monk Wan Kong inside.
