Uh...
Is Sean Nan here just to make me laugh...?
A gentle breeze blew as sunlight streamed down. Facing this inexplicably confident prince from an ancient kingdom, Andrew Han couldn't help but laugh aloud: "What are you mourning for?"
"It's nothing."
Sean Nan simply shook out his gold-and-silver royal robes, glanced casually at the manor’s flowers and plants, and with composed bearing, looked at Andrew, revealing a reserved smile.
As a prince of the South-Sage Ancient Kingdom,
he lacked neither resources nor secret arts, and rarely met a worthy opponent. He had thought that only after entering the Primeval Gate would he truly shine, but unexpectedly, Andrew Han emerged during the Primordial Contest, astonishing everyone and making his name in the Spark-Heritage Zone, which gradually stirred Sean Nan’s competitive spirit.
"Andrew, you wouldn’t understand."
Sean Nan clasped his hands behind his back, took two steps, bent down and casually plucked a silver flower, twirling it between his fingers.
"What don’t I understand?" Andrew watched Sean Nan with interest. Standing at Primeval-tier, he looked down at Sean Nan, who claimed to be on the verge of Primeval, feeling a subtle mix of emotions.
It wasn’t exactly complex or overwhelming—just something subtle and hard to put into words.
After all, he had always kept a low profile, rarely showing off, and never deliberately seeking recognition.
"Heh." Sean Nan chuckled softly, playing with the silver flower. His gaze drifted from Andrew to the nearby twin suns, as if he saw a bright future ahead and didn’t wish to waste words here—how could a frog in a well understand the vastness of the world?
Indeed.
He was just one last step away.
Sean Nan’s eyes flashed with determination as he gently crushed the silver flower... His Consciousness Node count had already reached 9,999—just one more would make ten thousand, the Primordial extreme, and earn him the entry pass to Primeval-tier.
But was he arrogant? No!
But was he conceited? No!
He, Sean Nan, spoke calmly, simply stating the facts.
"Andrew."
"I'll be waiting for you at the Primeval Gate, waiting for you to catch up," Sean Nan said calmly.
Hearing this, Andrew finally understood—and had enough of Sean Nan’s inexplicable confidence. He gulped down two mouthfuls of exotic fruit juice and continued deducing his Starlight-tier martial arts.
Oh, please.
There’s a time and a place to show off—and you should pick your audience, too.
A housecat showing its fangs to a tiger is no different from trying to show off your skills at the master’s door.
...
"Andrew..."
Sean Nan was full of emotion. Andrew treated it as idle chatter and kept deducing his own martial arts.
...
"Actually, I..."
Sean Nan kept rambling, as if talking to the air. Andrew carefully considered what direction Silent Chaos Seal and Morning Dawn Sword each represented in martial arts.
...
Playing both roles in your own drama is exhausting.
Inside the manor, amid the flowers and plants, Sean Nan swallowed a dry mouthful: After all my heartfelt speeches, you ignore me completely—do you really think I’m just air?
At that moment—
Andrew, deducing martial arts, gathered his starlight, reached out with his empty left hand, grabbed some exotic fruit juice, poured it into a colorful glass, and kindly offered it to Sean Nan.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
Sean Nan sneered, ignoring Andrew for so long—did he really think a little fruit juice could buy him off?
Exotic fruit juice? As a royal prince, he’d tasted every kind of juice... Sean Nan glanced sideways at the emerald-green drink, his Adam’s apple moved... Andrew’s gaze was full of the odd concern one gives a child who’s not quite right: "After all you’ve said, aren’t you thirsty? Just have some juice."
"You’re right."