The sky was bright, the red sun hanging high overhead.
Heroes emerged one by one from the Monarch's Camp, hurrying to their posts to prepare for the upcoming campaign against the northern territory of the Dongfang Race.
Fang Yang, however, followed four elderly men of the Sen clan into a quaint, antique study.
"Fang Yang, I'm many years your senior. You can call me Elder Hua, or of course, Senyao Hua."
"Greetings, Elder Hua."
"Heh heh, this is Elder Bird, this is Elder Yu, and this is Elder Chong. Flower, bird, fish, and insect—easy to remember, isn't it?"
Elder Hua's sudden joke left Fang Yang at a bit of a loss.
What could Fang Yang possibly say?
It was the kind of joke an elder could make, but a junior could not reciprocate.
"Senyao Hua, stop teasing Fang Yang. He's still just a boy, after all."
