"Same old same old, nothing has changed." A familiar voice sounded from behind Ji Nuan and Xiu Yan. Turning around, they found it was Mo Peisi, the eldest son of Chief Mo Zha they had just left.
Ji Nuan gave him a humorous glance: "When did you get here?"
Mo Peisi scratched his head in thought: "I've always been here. After all, what goes down here will affect the rankings of our three tribes."
Ji Nuan pointed towards the already distant Mo Zha with his chin: "Your father didn't recognize you at all, did he?"
There was no hint of disappointment on Mo Peisi's face. Instead, he raised his shoulders in helplessness: "Unfortunately, I've always been kind of unpopular."
"Next up, Mo Zhu from the Serra Tribe and Xiu Yan from Waston Tribe, please come to the competition field." The voice of a Divine Wood Tree man came from the wooden platform in front of the open space.
Ji Nuan and Mo Peisi halted their conversation and looked at the composed Xiu Yan standing nearby.
