"Why do you like watching young people fight?"
The Old Heavenly Master looked at the chaos below the wall, pulling out a string of candied fruit from his pocket for his eldest son, and asked Durin.
"When I was young, I used to fight too. Isn't this reminiscing about my lost youth?"
While handing out sticky rice dumplings to his daughters sitting on the wall, Durin sighed over past times.
The past wasn't all bad; there were also laughs and quarrels among young people, helping friends bicker in New Hangzhou City.
Back then, fights often broke out between several schools and the High Tower. Youngsters would throw away killing skills and, like the young people below, roll into a mass in the dust with sticks.
