Yang Mo just nodded without speaking, clearly not taking any of it in.
"Wait, don't go yet!"
Just as they were about to reach the main gate, Zhao Ci pulled the two of them into a nearby pavilion.
Feng Kucha asked in confusion, "Old Zhao, what's up?"
Zhao Ci stared at the golden text above Yang Mo's head, feeling more and more that fulfilling this wish was not going to be simple at all.
He took a deep breath. "Lao Mo! This mindset of yours, it needs to be corrected."
Yang Mo's expression darkened. "My fundamentals, compared to theirs..."
"I know!"
Zhao Ci was exasperated with him. "But have you ever thought about it? We're already in the middle of the mansion competition. If we want to actually win, you have to grow into a true expert. Can you really grow by just covering your head, taking a beating, and releasing poison?"
