Because Zhu Kun was right. He really did not know that the Mo Lin Dragon was a Water-Type Dragon Clan, nor did he know that Water-Type Dragon Clans had no Dragon Flame Sacs.
All his "research" and "theories" had been extrapolated from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Martial Soul, and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon did not even qualify as a true dragon, let alone have distinctions such as fire-type or water-type.
He was as embarrassed as someone who had only ever seen cats marching up to a tiger and saying, "I know why tigers don't eat fish," only to be told, "Tigers do eat fish."
"Senior... I..."
"Forget it."
Zhu Kun waved a hand as though brushing away a buzzing mosquito.
"I appreciate your good intentions, but you can't help."
"Go back down the mountain."
"Don't enter the restricted area without authorization again. I'm in a decent mood today, so I won't hold it against you. If the guards catch you next time, they won't be so polite."
With that, he stopped looking at Yu Xiaogang and turned his attention back to the Mo Lin Young Dragon.
Yu Xiaogang stood where he was, his expression shifting from embarrassment to humiliation, then from humiliation to an indescribable desolation.
Wrong again.
I've made a fool of myself in public again.
The dragon theories he was so proud of did not even qualify as beginner-level knowledge before the true Dragon Clan of the Great Thousand World.
He could not even distinguish the different types of dragons, yet he had dared to come and treat one.
He was nothing but a joke.
He turned around, lowered his head, and retraced his steps.
His steps were slow, his retreating figure utterly bedraggled.
Outside the Sky Screen.
Douluo Continent.
The people of Douluo reacted