Xiao Wu shot Mo Lin an unhappy glare, but she obediently went back anyway.
As soon as Xiao Wu left, Tang San looked at Mo Lin.
"How about we find somewhere else to talk?"
Mo Lin looked up at the noonday sun.
"No problem. There's a good restaurant in the eastern part of Spirit City. We can grab a meal while we talk!"
Inside a private dining room, Mo Lin had no regard for appearances as he gnawed on a chicken drumstick. After chewing for a while, he said to Tang San, "What are you staring at me for? Eat!"
Tang San felt that he could not quite understand Mo Lin. He had seemed incredibly gloomy up in the stands earlier, yet now he looked like such a carefree person.
"Mo Lin, have things been going well for you in Spirit Hall these past few years?"
"Pretty well! I eat well and sleep well, and I'm fit as a fiddle," Mo Lin said.
Tang San recalled how Mo Lin had sat alone in the stands earlier, with everyone around him keeping silent.
"But when I was watching the matches earlier, I got the feeling that you didn't seem very familiar with the other people in Spirit Hall."
"You're overthinking it!" Mo Lin accurately tossed the chicken bone into the trash bin. "There are so many students in Spirit Hall. It's impossible for me to know every single one of them! Right now, my strength far exceeds my fame in Spirit Hall. (The real reason: I hadn't been in Spirit Hall for over two years.)"
"Is that so? It hasn't been easy for you either." (Tang San's assumed reason: Because he was unwilling to interact with others, few people understood him.)
After chatting for another ten-odd minutes, they were still exchanging