"He's a Magma Soul Martial Artist and is around fire all year, so he knows how to use Soul Power to protect his clothes. The microphone survived, too."
"Oh." Rong Taotao asked, puzzled, "What did I say?"
Mentioning this, Gao Lingwei's heart filled with pride. She reached out and straightened Rong Taotao's soft, naturally curly hair. "Wanqi Wu ran you through, stood over you like a victor, and told you to your face: You lose."
Hearing this, something stirred in Rong Taotao's memory. He seemed to recall that happening.
It couldn't be helped. He had been in terrible shape at the time, and even his memory of that moment was a bit fuzzy.
Gao Lingwei said softly, "And then, you locked him in place and told him, word for word: You didn't win either."
Rong Taotao blinked. 'Whoa, really?'
'Whose kid is this?'
'So provocative?'
'Oh… it was me. Okay, never mind then…'
