The old man added, "You are the youngest, yet you defeated the current me."
"I am willing to acknowledge you as the strongest."
Zhao Rong hurriedly waved his hands and said humbly, "Elder, it would be better to say those words in ten years. Right now, your junior cannot bear such a praise."
Ten years later?
The old man burst into laughter upon hearing this, amused by his comment.
He was about to say something when the young man in front of him suddenly took off without a word, running quickly into the distance.
Watching the departing figure, the old man felt a slight sense of loss.
Just as the old man was about to continue with his sculpting, he heard hurried footstep sounds.
He couldn't help but feel joy in his heart.
Zhao Rong brought two jugs of wine and said, "I have been instructed by the elder today, so I would like to offer the elder a drink."
"It is the Double Ninth Festival now, and chrysanthemum wine is common, but what I bought is osmanthus wine."
