Zhou Dekun was on the verge of tears. Even after everything that had happened, he didn’t understand why this man just wouldn’t believe him. Perhaps the act he had put on before had simply been too convincing. The man apparently really did believe that he was looking down on him.
Meng Hao cleared his throat and then hesitantly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not a local alchemist. I just lost a match to Grandmaster Zhou, and was told to leave the city. I’m afraid I can’t compete with you in alchemy.” He sighed, looking apologetic.
Hearing this, Zhou Dekun’s face immediately fell, and he began to howl inwardly with anguish. “You’re my ancestor, alright? My ancestor! Can you just not do this to me….”
Second Elder, the one who had previously demanded that Meng Hao leave the city, now looked angrily over toward Zhou Dekun. ‘Why can’t you just take out the medicinal pill, Grandmaster Zhou,’ he thought. ‘Why cause all this trouble?’