Despite being well past their prime, Old Sun and Old Du were astonishingly energetic. The two had been arguing nonstop for over half an hour, faces neither red nor breathless, showing every sign that they could easily go on for another hour.
Their vocabulary was razor-sharp—soft words hiding barbs, politeness wrapped around insults. Each sentence landed cleanly, elegant yet lethal. It was less a quarrel and more a duel between scholars.
The show was entertaining, but Noah Steele had other things on his mind—namely, his system upgrade.
Ignoring the increasingly resentful looks from the shop assistants, Noah stepped forward and physically separated the two old men.
“Gentlemen,” he said, clearing his throat, “how about calling a temporary ceasefire? Could we finish selling my items first?
