"Hahaha… Kid, do you boast without even drafting it up?"
"Hiss, damn it!"
Unable to hold back, Sun Zhichao burst out laughing, but it pulled at the muscles in his swollen face, making him gasp in pain.
After cursing, he pointed at Lu Ning and continued, "My master is nearly seventy years old, and only a few big shots can summon him. And you, what are you?"
"What if I actually manage to summon your master?"
Lu Ning asked indifferently.
"Damn it, if you can get my master to come here, I'll eat shit right here and now, however much there is!"
Sun Zhichao made his bold claim on the spot.
"Hmm... alright then. Give me ten minutes!"
Lu Ning nodded, took out his phone, and made a call to the fatty. He told Qin Wenhong to rush to Yunkang Hospital within ten minutes, promising him the medicinal liquor recipe served at Su Yunshan's birthday banquet.