Lu Xingshen felt a headache coming on.
He was a man of refinement. He valued grace, keeping his emotions hidden, and remaining unflustered even if Mount Tai collapsed before him.
But ever since coming to the provincial capital and meeting Li Yao, he felt that all his former composure had been tossed into the sewers... That brat always seemed to have a way of getting under his skin.
And he couldn't even draw his sword and chop the guy up.
Tell me, wasn't that infuriating?
And now he was saying something about "my sword is your sword"? What the hell did that mean?
How did this old man's things become your things? Come on, explain it clearly. If you can't, I'll split open your dog head!
Lu Xingshen stared at Li Yao with an unfriendly look. Li Yao pursed his lips, truly experiencing what a generation gap was in the face of this massive communication barrier—a generation gap spanning several different realms.
Li Yao said, "It's a line from a game."
Lu Xingshen said, "Oh."
Keep talking! Old Man Lu gripped the handle of the Dragon-Snake Staff...
Li Yao said, "Here's the thing, we're already so familiar with each other. Can't your swordsmanship help me out? If you're helping me, do I still need to learn swordsmanship? No! The most important thing in a party is proper class distribution. Two melee fighters are easy to counter!"
Old Man Lu pondered this. "Are you saying my swordsmanship is just melee fighting?"
Li Yao said, "..."
Sure enough, there was no communicating with old people.
Li Yao leaned back and spread his hands. "I'm not learning."
Lu Xingshen asked, "Do you think you can beat me?"
Li Yao still had a decent grasp of the difference in their strength, so he honestly