"You're asking me?"
The newcomer turned his head and glanced at Gongshu Wu.
His sharp, long nails pointed at himself.
His scarlet, murky eyes held a touch of vacant stupidity.
For reasons of his own, Gong Cheng didn't make a move. He merely watched the stranger who had suddenly intervened with wariness. He'd assumed the newcomer was a martial officer under Shen Tang, but judging from his second uncle's reaction, the two didn't know each other. If so, why had this man appeared at such a timely moment?
Gongshu Wu was stumped by the newcomer's question.
"Of course I'm asking you, my benefactor."
The newcomer's aura was stronger than his own, but weaker than Gong Cheng's.
Yet he'd taken one of Gong Cheng's attacks head-on without suffering a backlash. That meant his strength was at least that of a Sixteenth Rank Grand Shang Zao, perhaps even a Seventeenth Rank Chariot Officer. A Martial Gall Warrior of such strength had no reason to be unknown. Besides, he'd saved him. He was a friend, not a foe.
The newcomer said, "A foot soldier in the vanguard camp."
Sixth Brother said he was a little vanguard now.
Gongshu Wu and Gong Cheng fell into a strange silence.
A Martial Gall Warrior of this strength was only an insignificant foot soldier in the vanguard camp? Gongshu Wu was glad he no longer had a flesh-and-blood body. Otherwise, his face would surely have flushed with shame, and he'd have been mortified. What kind of eyes did he have, that he'd failed to notice such a powerful expert?
And he'd let him serve as a foot soldier?
Gongshu Wu asked himself: even with his reserved temperament, he couldn't stomach such a humiliating disgrace. If he didn't drag out the officer in charge and beat him half