Chu Yao was still howling at the top of his lungs when Gu Xiao dropped the kitchen knife in his hand.
The not-so-sharp kitchen knife spun out of his hand, cut through the window paper, and hit the wooden stake outside. The blade penetrated three inches into the wood, less than an inch away from the waiter.
If he moved, the trembling blade would cut his flesh, like a fat pig with its throat cut and bleeding.
The proprietress who was following the waiter turned pale with fright. The three waiters stood there in a daze. The sticks and machetes in their hands fell to the ground with a crackling sound. They didn't dare to cry out in pain even when they were hit on the toes.
Chu Yao was so frightened by this that he forgot to cry and just hiccuped instinctively.
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