A few years earlier, Pan Long had been fiercely competitive. Perhaps it was because he had still been in a child's body.
He was usually steady, but whenever he competed with someone, he had to win.
Whether it was martial arts or scholarship, unless his opponent was so far ahead that victory was truly impossible, he would fight for it.
The last time he had visited his maternal grandfather's home, he had debated a group of his uncles and swept them all aside.
He had nearly forgotten about it. He had beaten so many people in those years that he could hardly be bothered to remember them all.
Besides, defeating his uncles in a debate had hardly seemed worth mentioning. To him, winning a debate was only natural; winning a fight took a little more effort.
But to his youngest uncle, Ren Jin, it was another matter. Ren Jin fancied himself a young literary talent. Not only could he not beat the bastard who had carried off his eldest sister, he could not even outargue that bastard's son—a child not yet ten years old...
No wonder the experience had left such a deep scar. The moment Ren Jin recognized Pan Long, he turned and ran.
And Ren Jin was not the only one it had scarred.
As they walked, they encountered another uncle. This one was a little older and held a young girl by the hand, probably his daughter. Pan Long meant to go over and greet him, but before he could speak, the man recognized him, scooped up his daughter, and fled as though he had sprouted wings.
"Am I really that frightening?" Pan Long asked, puzzled. "I only wanted to greet an elder."
Uncle Chen burst out laughing. "Back then, you opened your mouth and swept all