The two geniuses had no idea that their master uncle and their incense-suffused master with a blackened face were in the room right behind them.
"Where did you buy that pigeon blood from?" the young Daoist asked, slightly puzzled.
"From that farm in the suburbs!" the Black Daoist said with a hint of distress, "I spent over twenty thousand!"
The expression on the face of Saintly Virtue Daoist became extremely peculiar, as his complexion turned both black from the incense of his three senior brothers and red from the stupidity of his two foolish disciples.
With his face alternating between black and red, Saintly Virtue Daoist suddenly realized that the suburban farm sold not pigeons, but... quails!
Just as Saintly Virtue Daoist was about to strike down his two foolish disciples, he heard them speak.
"Hey? Do you smell something strange?" the young Daoist asked.
"Hmm, this smell?" the Black Daoist sniffed twice and analyzed, "Could it be someone missed the toilet?"
