"You actually got first place?" Zhuang Ziqing gritted his teeth. "Didn't you say you only had two spells of the seventh-turn Grassman Skill?"
"Yes." Zhao Xing shrugged. "You asked about the seventh-turn Grassman Skill, and indeed, there are only two."
"I'm going to fight you!" Zhuang Ziqing made a move to strangle Zhao Xing's neck.
"Brother Zhuang, let it go." Cao Shuang quickly laughed and held him back.
Cai Jin also said, "Yes, even I, from the Taicang Institute, haven't said anything. Why are you getting so excited?"
Han Bing said coldly, "Brother Zhuang, why don't you ask him how many turns his other Grassman Skills have?"
Zhuang Ziqing paused, then asked, "Right, what about the others?"
"There are also two of the ninth-turn."
"..."
"Damn it, brothers, let's beat him up!" Cao Shuang, Zhuang Ziqing, and Cai Jin immediately pounced on him.
...
Zhao Xing's rapid progress shocked these upper-class geniuses.
