"Elder Xuan, are you all right...?"
Watching Xuan Zi's expression grow increasingly ugly, Wang Yan stepped forward, rested a hand on his shoulder, and asked.
At last, Xuan Zi erupted. With a heavy grunt, he turned to Wang Yan and said,
"Just look at the students you're teaching! What sort of students are these? Huh? Who acts like that? Who talks back to a teacher like that? For every word I say, he practically throws ten back at me!"
Wang Yan immediately felt as though a great black pot of blame had been clapped onto his back.
But he dared not argue with Xuan Zi. He merely scratched his cheek and said with an awkward smile,
"Elder Xuan, please don't be angry. It's hardly the first day Huo Yuhao has shown no respect for his elders. It's... it's mainly that we don't have a comparable replacement!"
Xuan Zi sighed, leaned against the side helplessly, and took a drink.
"Yes. If we had anyone remotely reliable whose talent matched his-even someone a whole ring below him in cultivation-there's no way he'd make the reserve team. He could warm the bench until he died. We might as well expel him outright."
Wang Yan scratched his head with a bitter smile, then said to Xuan Zi,
"You've been away from the grassroots too long to know. I doubt we'll find another Soul Master who can wrestle with Huo Yuhao in talent for at least thirty years. Friction between the three original nations of the Douluo Continent and the Sun Moon Empire has never stopped these past few years. Plenty of mid-level Soul Masters die on the battlefield before they even have a chance to carry on their family lines. Our pool of students is drying up."
Chewing on a chicken leg, Xuan Zi