As Zhao Rong faced the Thousand Year Old Demon, he held out two clenched fists.
Seeing the fists, the Thousand Year Old Demon stepped back. "What are you trying to do?" he asked in surprise. "Are you looking for a fight? You little rascal, did you lose my Rushing Gate Pill?"
Zhao Rong suddenly opened his right hand. "Thousand Year Old Demon, this is the Rushing Gate Pill I successfully replicated from yours. Take a look. What do you think?"
The Thousand Year Old Demon peered at the Rushing Gate Pill in Zhao Rong's right hand, sniffed its scent, and sensed its medicinal effects before saying in disbelief, "Young man, you didn't just try to pass off the Rushing Gate Pill I lent you as your own, did you?"
Hearing this, Zhao Rong opened his left hand as well. "Thousand Year Old Demon, let's be clear. The pill in my right hand is beige; it's the replica. The pill in my left hand is the one you lent me; it's golden."
