Su Jiameng stood in the background, watching the two of them sparring with hidden barbs, feeling a wave of weariness in her heart.
Who knows how that unfamiliar Admiral muscled his way up, his body bloated, the fat on his face capable of squeezing out a panful of animal oil, with bags under his eyes and unsteady steps. He didn't look like a battle-hardened warrior at all... more like someone who has long been indulged in debauchery. When he spoke to Yu Feng, he appeared affectionate but was actually condescending and neglectful.
Yet this kind of person could actually climb to the rank of Admiral? Isn't it too fantastical? Or perhaps, now that the Insect Race war has reached its end, everyone's guard has relaxed, including the standards for becoming an Admiral?
