An Ning and Jiang Xia had been running together for over half a month. Their paces were quite similar, and they ran long distances, often from the foot of the mountain to the top and back down again.
Deep down, both of them were competitive. It wasn't about being hot-headed, but rather a respectful rivalry that emerged when they met a worthy opponent.
While they competed in running, they also practiced their verbal sparring.
Although Jiang Xia was subconsciously nice to An Ning, he hadn't changed his ways. He still carried himself like a young master—arrogant and sharp-tongued.
And through her verbal jousting with Jiang Xia, An Ning's own tongue was getting sharper and sharper.
Meanwhile, the newly returned An Guoming finished a bowl of noodles under immense pressure. Across from him sat An Sancheng, who hadn't said a word but whose gaze never left him.
After An Guoming drank the last of the noodle broth, he carefully set down the bowl.
