When only the short, stout old man, Sili Qiu, and Zhao Sheng were left on the stage, Sili Qiu no longer bothered to pretend, saying coldly with a somber face, "Chen Mingxi, I am a few years older than you, so I will let you make the first three moves. Go ahead!"
However, Zhao Sheng shook his head after hearing this, "Not so, not so! There's an old saying that each field has its specialist, but in cultivation, there's no such thing as being ahead or behind. Allowing your opponent to attack first is absurd. Furthermore, a guest from afar should be welcomed. As the host, I should show courtesy to my guest. Please, Brother Qiu, you go first."
Sili Qiu, seeing the situation, didn't bother to argue over who went first. Suddenly, he raised his hand, and a giant golden, shimmering hand, more than ten feet long, materialized in mid-air and reached down to grab Zhao Sheng.
