He is mature.
He is composed.
He is no longer the middle-aged man with a lump in his throat, who almost forgot how to breathe.
Ah spit!
Who's middle-aged.
Before anyone had figured out what to do next, Lu Yuxiang spoke again.
This time, he spoke in Chinese.
It wasn't very fluent but was concise and to the point.
"Heard, you, genius," Lu Yuxiang pointed at Nie Guangyi, then at himself, and said, "compare, compare."
"Compare? Compare what?" Nie Guangyi wasn't familiar with Lu Yuxiang's situation and asked with some uncertainty.
"Math," Lu Yuxiang's reply was still very simple.
"Math? The scope of math is quite broad. What exactly do you want to compare?" Nie Guangyi really wanted to add the suffix "little friend" at the end of his sentence.
After some thought, he still held back.
As a middle-aged man.
Ah spit spit!
As a prime-aged genius, he shouldn't be too obvious in bullying a child.
It's normal for a child to be a bit arrogant and self-important.
