Xiao Rong watched as Qu Yunmie finished an entire jar of wine. Even if it wasn’t particularly strong, drinking that much of it would make anyone feel a little dizzy.

When Qu Yunmie went to grab a second jar, Xiao Rong seized the opportunity and said, “Your Majesty, I have an unreasonable request.”

Qu Yunmie paused mid-movement, holding the jar.

See? He knew it—no matter when Xiao Rong came to see him, official business was official business, but private matters could always turn into public ones.

After a moment of silence, Qu Yunmie nodded calmly and said, “Go on.”

Xiao Rong said, “Although we are fully prepared for this expedition, the enemy is cunning and ever-changing, and the battlefield is unpredictable. I cannot fight alongside Your Majesty or charge into battle, but I worry about your safety and the safety of our soldiers. Therefore…”

He paused slightly, then cautiously asked Qu Yunmie, “Would Your Majesty allow General Jian to send daily military reports back to Chenliu? If temporary relay posts are set up along the way and good horses and capable men are chosen, the delay wouldn’t exceed three days. This way, whatever happens on your side, Chenliu can respond swiftly. What do you think, Your Majesty?”

Qu Yunmie took a second to process. “Every day?”

Xiao Rong nodded.

Qu Yunmie replied, “Where would I find that many military reports for you to read?”

Xiao Rong: “…”

You hamster-brained fool, do you only take things at face value?

After a moment of silence, Xiao Rong sighed. “If there are reports, I’ll read them. If there aren’t, I’ll read the ones that say you’re safe.”

Qu Yunmie looked slightly stunned.

He had participated in countless battles, big and small, but he never reported his safety to anyone. Nor had anyone ever asked him to.

Xiao Rong continued to wait for his response. After a short while, Qu Yunmie finally pulled himself out of that unfamiliar yet somewhat comforting feeling. With a big wave of his hand, he generously said, “No need to trouble General Jian—I’ll write them myself!”

Xiao Rong: “…”

He had just started to smile when his expression froze mid-way.

You writing the reports is useless! You can’t even tell what your subordinates are thinking!

Xiao Rong couldn’t say that directly. Although he and Qu Yunmie often argued, it was always about themselves or outsiders—not internal matters of the Northern Army.

Who knew how Qu Yunmie would react if he found out Xiao Rong even suspected his own men? He might think Xiao Rong was just stirring up trouble.

After an awkward silence, Xiao Rong smiled again and said, “That’s naturally good, but there may be times when you’re too busy. Besides, the point of the reports is to confirm your safety—an extra layer of security wouldn’t hurt. How about this: You write one, and General Jian writes one too. One letter is open, the other secret. If one day I only receive the open one but not the secret one, then I’ll know something has gone wrong.”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

He looked at Xiao Rong suspiciously. “Why do you sound so sure something will go wrong?”

He paused, his expression growing more puzzled. “One open, one secret—are you guarding against someone in the army?”

Xiao Rong: “…”

Impressive. The hamster has evolved.

After a short silence, Xiao Rong gave a concise answer. “Better safe than sorry.”

Qu Yunmie was indeed uncomfortable with Xiao Rong suspecting his subordinates, but then he recalled how Li Xiuheng and Zhuang Weizhi had previously kidnapped Xiao Rong. He couldn’t really blame Xiao Rong for being cautious.

Pressing his lips into a line, Qu Yunmie eventually agreed. Once he got what he wanted, Xiao Rong stood up happily, praised Qu Yunmie’s generosity, and left.

Qu Yunmie watched him leave, then looked at the two jars on the table.

One was empty, the other had just been opened.

Neither had been finished.

*

Two days passed in the blink of an eye, and the highly anticipated Thousand Scholars Literary Gathering, which had been promoted for over a month, finally began.

Idle scholars had already begun gathering ten days prior. Although the official start date was clearly announced, noble families liked to appear reserved—they preferred a grand entrance.

They deliberately avoided showing up on the first day, instead arriving fashionably late on the second or third. When they ran into acquaintances, they’d greet each other politely and say they hadn’t intended to come, but with nothing better to do and so many friends attending, they reluctantly decided to take a look. As for the ten thousand gold coins—ha! True scholars scorn wealth. Gold and silver meant nothing to them.

They were only here to make connections.

This attitude wasn’t uncommon. Yet when they entered Baibao Street and saw the towering pile of gold in the center of the square—three men tall—even the most reserved among them were wide-eyed.

There’s a saying: “A child walking through a marketplace with gold invites disaster.” Over time, this evolved from a warning about flaunting wealth to a subtle call for humility.

No matter how you phrase it, the meaning stays the same—a single piece of gold can make someone ruthless. There before them were ten thousand pieces. Not even gods or ghosts could resist.

Yet no one dared act. Surrounding the gold were layers upon layers of heavily armored North Army soldiers, each holding a blade whose glint competed with the golden shine behind them.

On the east side of the square stood Xiao Rong’s theater. It had two and a half levels, with a hollow center. The bottom floor was for VIPs and performances, the upper level for general seating. The half-floor above served partly as storage and partly as a viewing platform overlooking the square—only Xiao Rong could access it.

At this moment, Xiao Rong was seated there with Yu Shaoxie, smiling as they watched the stunned scholars below.

It was the second day of the event. Compared to the quiet atmosphere on day one, things had become much livelier overnight.

Yu Shaoxie looked at the pile of gold and couldn’t help twitching the corners of his mouth. “That’s too flashy.”

Xiao Rong replied, “If we’re not flashy, how can we attract attention? It shows our sincerity. Let them know—the Northern Army King isn’t bluffing. He really prepared ten thousand gold pieces.”

Yu Shaoxie: “…”

That ten thousand gold was just scraped together a few days ago.

This scene hadn’t been part of the original plan, but after Yu Shaoxie’s great victory in Huaiyin, where he stayed five days, he returned with the 30,000 gold that Sun Renluan had promised but never intended to give. Along with the gold came food supplies and a logistics team.

Xiao Rong had only asked for so much to scare Sun Renluan into bargaining. He never expected to actually get it all. However, thanks to Yang Zangyi foolishly handing over leverage, they took full advantage.

Gold, food, soldiers—those were the big gains. Yu Shaoxie also brought back two warships, two luxury boats, boxes of treasure, and three secret recipes.

Two were compensation from the Yang family: one for an improved crossbow design, the other for making tofu.

Xiao Rong: “…”

He didn’t know how to feel when Yu Shaoxie proudly presented the tofu recipe—especially since he had worked hard to get it, thinking Xiao Rong would love this exotic dish.

…Fine.

Rubbing his own chest as if he wanted to vomit blood, Xiao Rong looked at the third document—this was what he truly desired the most.

Before Yu Shaoxie set off, Xiao Rong had deliberately handed him that opera-themed bamboo hairpin and repeatedly instructed him that, at the critical moment, he was to give the hairpin to Sun Renluan, so he would know that Xiao Rong didn’t actually blame the court. Xiao Rong saw things clearly: Yang Zangyi and the court were two separate matters. What he had said before still stood—he would do his best to support the court. There was one condition: Sun Renluan had to help him accomplish one thing.

The most valuable things were always free—Sun Renluan agreed with this principle completely. Once he found out what Xiao Rong actually wanted, he finally let out a deep sigh of relief. In his opinion, it was as good as giving something away for free. That very day, he gave the order to hand the third secret recipe to Yu Shaoxie.

As for what the third recipe was—it was the method of producing Xiao Family Paper.

Papermaking actually involved technique, it wasn’t as simple as printing, where you could figure it out just by looking. Xiao Rong’s surname was “Xiao” after all. Even though he himself knew that the paper he made had nothing to do with the Xiao family, once the Xiao family—and the public—found out, they would definitely scold him for being shameless, for taking his own clan’s thing and claiming it as his own.

Now, he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. With Sun Renluan’s help, the formula was, on paper, a gift given willingly by the Xiao family to Xiao Rong. From then on, he could use and trade it freely.

The Xiao family was so furious they nearly vomited blood. When Xiao Rong had come to Jinling, Sun Renluan had told them to reach out to him. However, they looked down on Xiao Rong and didn’t want to acknowledge this poor relative, so they didn’t invite him. They hadn’t even considered seeking him out. In their view, sending an invitation at all was already lowering themselves. What more did he want?

They hadn’t even sent that invitation out yet. They had planned to drag things out, wait until Xiao Rong was about to leave, and then reluctantly invite him over to formally reconnect with the family. No one expected such a big incident to happen in the meantime—Xiao Rong fled in the middle of the night, and Sun Renluan nearly threw Chancellor Yang into prison. These past few days, everyone kept their heads down—except for the Xiao family, who still acted relaxed.

They believed they were Xiao Rong’s kin, and Sun Renluan wouldn’t possibly take out his anger on them. Perhaps Sun Renluan would even rely on them, using their shared family background to persuade Xiao Rong to let things slide.

It is worth mentioning that although the Xiao family had many ancestors who once held office in the Capital and counted as part of the aristocracy there, their ancestral home was in Linchuan. That made them part of the southern aristocracy. After the Yong Dynasty moved the capital, tensions between north and south arose, and the Xiao family ended up alienated from both sides—northern elites excluded them, and southern elites no longer claimed them. On top of that, their descendants were mediocre. Although they still ranked among the second-tier families, their political influence had long declined.

So, rather than being afraid, they actually saw this as an opportunity to regain favor. Originally, they only intended for Xiao Rong to acknowledge his roots and remain part of a side branch of the Xiao family. Now, they even considered making a bigger gesture—letting someone from the main branch formally recognize him and register his name under the main family line.

Of course, it couldn’t be the eldest son’s lineage—they would never allow someone from a side branch to inherit the clan. However, placing him under the second or third son’s line of the main branch would give him the title of a legitimate heir, without affecting their real interests.

In an unseen corner, fierce arguments broke out within the Xiao family—no one wanted to take in a stranger. Some of the madams even threatened to return to their maiden homes. Then, Yu Shaoxie went to deliver the hairpin to Sun Renluan.

…

It wasn’t their fault, but they had to pay the price. Xiao Rong—this shameless man—he didn’t even care about rejoining the family. What he really wanted was the Xiao Family Paper recipe!

If they found out that Xiao Rong only wanted the recipe to pave the way for his next move—that he didn’t even plan to sell Xiao Family Paper, but intended to use its name to claim he had developed a better, cheaper version of paper, and then lower the price of paper in general—they’d probably cough up even more blood.

This had nothing to do with Xiao Rong anymore. After all, he now owned the recipe, and it was given to him by the Xiao family willingly. Whatever he wanted to do, they couldn’t stop him.

…

The recipe had just arrived, and paper production hadn’t yet started. Besides, there were already plenty of novelties in Chenliu, so one more or less didn’t matter.

Xiao Rong lowered his eyes and looked at the bustling crowd below. Almost every newcomer froze in awe at the sight of the golden mountain on display. Although they tried to act reserved and noble, pretending they didn’t care about wealth, in the end, each one honestly walked up front, where a board was set up with the first of three questions for the written challenge.

The first question was the easiest—just one line: “To govern with virtue—what is virtue?”

As soon as they saw the question, many people scoffed. Scholars nowadays loved philosophical discussions, and their debates mostly revolved around the classics. This kind of question has been talked about countless times. No one expected the King of the Northern Army to use such a cliché topic—it was the most basic regurgitation of other people’s ideas.

Realizing that this was the level of the current examination, those who had come hoping to compete with scholars from north of the Han River immediately lost interest. Just then, someone let out a quiet “Hmm?”

It turned out the board didn’t only have the large question posted. Beneath it were three densely written pages—sample essays based on the prompt. Next to them was a line of text: “Articles submitted for selection on XX date, displayed randomly for visitors to view.”

That “XX date” was just yesterday. People were surprised that someone had already submitted essays after only one day—they were curious to see how these pieces were written.

The first essay immediately drew everyone’s attention. Its stance was extremely radical—it essentially tore down the long-accepted moral standards and carried an air of “everyone is foolish but me.” It was only a step away from outright calling everyone and everything they believed in trash.

Everyone: “…”

The second piece was not written in that style. Its tone was normal—but its values were not. It actually advocated that no one should study anymore, because studying made people think too much. If they didn’t understand anything, they wouldn’t question what virtue was. If they didn’t even think, they wouldn’t realize they were living poorly. Not knowing they were living poorly meant they must be living well. If they were living well, that proved they had a benevolent ruler, and if all rulers were benevolent, why bother reading and pondering what virtue meant?

Everyone: “…”

What kind of lunatic wrote this?

These two essays left everyone frustrated. Burning with anger, they turned to the third essay. Hmm, this one was much more reasonable—elegant in language and well-developed in ideas. Not only did it win public approval, but it also presented a fresh perspective others hadn’t considered. After being “cleansed” by the first two, the third one received thunderous praise—until they read the final paragraph.

There, the writer humbly admitted that his ideas were still immature. After all, he was only fourteen years old. If anyone disagreed, they were welcome to offer guidance.

Everyone: “…”

They silently looked back at the top of the essay. Based on the handwriting and vocabulary, this didn’t seem like it came from a child. What fourteen-year-old talks like that?!

He was definitely bragging, so shameless! To gain favor, he actually pretended to be a child!

Soon, someone angrily left the notice board, intending to go back and write a really good article to show the Northern Army King. Xiao Rong watched their retreating figures and then smiled with satisfaction.

Yu Shaoxie said, “Yi is still young. You’re pushing him so hard, aren’t you afraid it will affect his character in the future?”

Xiao Rong said, “Even if I don’t push him, he would have already been standing in the fire.”

Yu Shaoxie paused for a moment, thinking about Xiao Rong’s current status and then about Xiao Yi’s relationship with him. Yu Shaoxie understood Xiao Rong’s meaning but still felt there was no need to be so high-profile. Everything was proceeding step by step. Xiao Yi could continue studying for a few more years before appearing before everyone. Xiao Rong pushed him out so quickly, and although Xiao Rong’s reason was to get him a good teacher quickly, Yu Shaoxie felt that what Xiao Rong really wanted was for Xiao Yi to become independent as soon as possible.

He thought this because several years ago, he did the same thing. When he left the title to Yu Shaocheng, Yu Shaoxie’s intention was to let him learn to handle things independently. They were brothers, but they were also independent individuals. He couldn’t always keep dragging Yu Shaocheng into things.

Thinking about this, Yu Shaoxie couldn’t help but glance at Xiao Rong. Was it that Xiao Rong didn’t want to burden Xiao Yi, or was it that he didn’t want to be responsible for Xiao Yi?

There was no answer to this question because Yu Shaoxie didn’t ask Xiao Rong. Even if he did, Xiao Rong wouldn’t have answered.

＊

The past few days in Chenliu had been incredibly lively. More and more people came due to letters from friends and family. Although the 10,000 gold could only be claimed by answering the three questions on the written challenge, not everyone came with that goal in mind. More people came to showcase their literary talents.

In the first five days, there was only the first question, and every day, an article was posted. At first, it was rotated daily, but later, it became one rotation every hour. Some people even decided to stay on Baibao Street. Whenever a good piece was displayed, people would cheer, and when a bad one appeared, they would harshly criticize it. For a time, the central square became crowded. Scholars passionately debated in front, while vendors lined the outside, selling tea and snacks.

Although there was suspicion that they were competing with the sponsors in the square for business, no one really cared. After all, there were so many people that the ones inside could barely keep up.

…

Zhao Xingzong, a local from Xinan, came from a humble background. His ancestors had once served as Imperial Censor, an official responsible for monitoring military officers’ obedience. However, his ancestors were too honest—they couldn’t tolerate even a grain of sand in their eyes, and they reported everything. In the end, they ended up in jail.

The political tricks were too much for the Zhao family, so they fled from the Capital and returned to Xinan, managing to avoid several disasters. Neither the heavy snow nor the invasions by the Huhar people had any life-threatening consequences for them.

“Pick yourself up from where you fell.” Other members of the Zhao family were scared, but Zhao Xingzong, who bore the hopes of his family, wasn’t. From the moment he learned the meaning of his name, Zhao Xingzong had a great dream.

Now, he had reached adulthood and was ready to realize his dream, but he was a bit conflicted.

Should he follow his ancestors’ path and serve the Emperor directly, or should he learn from their mistakes and work somewhere with fewer tricks?

While he was in this dilemma, a piece of news reached his ears. The Northern King, an uncouth man, was going to hold a literary contest with a thousand participants. He also announced that anyone who could answer the three questions in the contest would receive 10,000 gold.

Zhao Xingzong’s eyes lit up. He immediately packed his things and prepared to head north.

He wasn’t coming for the 10,000 gold, nor was he interested in observing the Northern King’s character. He is just going to enjoy the spectacle.

…..

When they passed the pier, Zhao Xingzong saw many scholars dressed similarly to him. He had worried that he might be stopped, but there was no need to worry because at that time, Xiao Rong had just escaped danger, and Southern Yong was in a chaotic situation. They didn’t have the time to care about things at the pier.

After smoothly passing through, Zhao Xingzong continued northward. When he finally arrived at Chenliu City, he was first shocked by the small workers who were busy fortifying the city walls.

They were eating—not just plain porridge, but actual corn rice!

Although it was just a small bowl, it was still rice. Many of the workers didn’t eat it but wrapped it up quickly with cloth to take home to their families.

Zhao Xingzong was stunned. The Northern King treated laborers so well? He couldn’t help but ask around, wanting to know if they got food every day, or if it was only for these two days to leave a good impression on the scholars attending the literary contest.

The person he asked rolled their eyes and replied, “Do you think everyone is like the Governor of Yiyang, forcing the strong men to work and not even feeding them? The Northern King not only feeds us, but he also pays us! Go away, I’m so tired of people like you.”

Zhao Xingzong: “…”

He guessed that this person had probably been from Yiyang and couldn’t stay there, so he moved to other places to find work.

These people had a fixed name: the wandering population.

It wasn’t uncommon for wandering people to be forced to work in the city, but it was rare for them to be given food and pay at the same time. No wonder the Northern King could offer such a large reward of 10,000 gold, he really had money.

Zhao Xingzong wouldn’t have minded if the Northern King hadn’t paid the wandering workers, as that’s how things usually worked. Since he did, Zhao Xingzong couldn’t help but blink in surprise and feel a little happy.

A few coins wouldn’t improve their lives, but at least it allowed them to have a full meal. Having something was better than nothing.

Leaving the city gate, Zhao Xingzong was about to find a place to settle down when he heard a patrolling soldier from the Northern Army remind him, “If you’re here for the literary contest, there’s an inn on Baibao Street. It has everything—food, lodging, entertainment—and it’s very close to where the contest will be held.”

Zhao Xingzong paused for a moment. He looked at the soldier, who then pointed with a finger toward Baibao Street.

Zhao Xingzong said, “Thank you?”

The soldier waved his hand dismissively, signaling there was no need to thank him, and then continued to remind the next person.

Zhao Xingzong felt something was odd, but he followed the directions. After all, compared to running around like a headless chicken, he believed that the Northern King wouldn’t let his subordinates trick him. Finally, he reached Baibao Street and was stunned by the bustling crowd.

What a clean street!

What strange storefronts!

So many scholars!

He had never been to Jinling, but this looked like it could be the place. The whole street was crowded, and voices from different scholars discussing various topics filled the air.

Scholar A: “No, no, no, the second piece from yesterday’s late hours is the best!”

Scholar B: “Why buy writing materials and incense pouches? If I wanted something, I’d prefer an oiled paper umbrella.”

Scholar C: “The theater is so hard to get into now. I even tried offering more money to get in, but they wouldn’t let me. Who even owns this theater? Do they know who I am?”

Scholar D: “Where’s that restaurant? They didn’t even make it clear. I walked for three laps around the square!”

Zhao Xingzong: “…”

He didn’t understand a single sentence, but he didn’t panic. He slowly closed his mouth and confidently walked in.

It was obvious that there was plenty of excitement to watch—he had arrived!

…

From then on, Zhao Xingzong stayed busy. He would leave early in the morning and not return to the inn until late at night.

His day went like this: First, he went to the square to check out the previous day’s articles. Luckily, someone was always there keeping an eye on them. If the article was mediocre, it would be ignored. If it was good, people would copy it and pass it around. Therefore, fewer people lingered around the square, and when they passed by the Golden Mountain, they could easily avoid looking at the articles.

Whether or not people secretly looked, well, that didn’t matter.

After reading the articles, he immediately rushed to the library. The library built by the Northern King wasn’t large and could only accommodate fifty people at a time. At first, people who couldn’t find a seat had to stand, but when that became an issue, the Northern Army had to enforce order. Now only fifty people were allowed in at a time, and once full, the doors were closed.

Many complained that the people inside stayed for too long and they never left. Eventually, a new rule was established: The library appointed a manager who could recognize people’s faces. If someone stayed for half an hour and didn’t leave, they would be asked to leave.

…

Even with this system, there weren’t many people allowed in, so it was necessary to line up early.

The only consolation for Zhao Xingzong was that the wealthy families didn’t bother with the library, so it was mainly the poor scholars competing for a spot. At least, in that regard, he had fewer competitors.

After spending half an hour in the library, reading as much as possible, Zhao Xingzong was asked to leave. He looked at the people still waiting in line outside, feeling a sense of superiority, and his steps became lighter.

Next, he went to eat. After two days of reading the articles on display, Zhao Xingzong realized he was not going to win the 10,000 gold. Still, he intended to continue participating. After all, the library had so many books, he wanted to finish reading them all before leaving.

After eating, Zhao Xingzong wiped his mouth and headed to his next stop: the highly coveted theater. He had been here several days, yet hadn’t been able to see a performance. Unlike the library, the theater allowed anyone to enter, and the people of Chenliu didn’t need to hurry. They just waited in line.

The theater only performed two shows a day, and this rule had been complained about countless times. Some even went to report to the officials, but the theater remained stubborn and refused to add any extra performances.

Zhao Xingzong heard that the theater had been showing the same play for several days. This was unusual, but that also made him even more curious to see it.

…

On his way to the theater, Zhao Xingzong saw yet another notice board. There were so many of them in Chenliu: one in the square, one on Baibao Street, one at the government office, and one at the city gate. The notices posted on them included rules, official documents, and some strange things.

For example: The Uses of Wool: Did you know that wool can be spun into thread? Do you know how to process wool to make it softer? Do you know which kind of wool should be used for bedding and which for clothing?

Zhao Xingzong: “…”

In addition to the one at the square, all the other notice boards had someone standing next to them to read them aloud. Zhao Xingzong often saw commoners approaching, timidly pointing at a piece of paper, and the person beside the board would read it aloud in a neutral tone. Afterward, the commoners would bow and thank the reader. This person probably had seen this a thousand times and showed no change in expression, quietly waiting for the next batch of people.

Some commoners were shy, while others were bold. The bold ones simply stood there and didn’t leave, waiting for others to come and listen to the notices, then secretly listened to it themselves.

At first, Zhao Xingzong didn’t understand what was happening, but eventually, he realized they were secretly learning to read.

…

Seeing this, Zhao Xingzong didn’t know how to feel. Chenliu was so different from other cities. These commoners seemed different too—not that they were fundamentally different, but because they were in Chenliu, they had the chance to be bold or shy. The commoners from other cities didn’t even have that option.

Shaking his head, Zhao Xingzong quickened his pace. He had arrived early this time, and since this play had been running for several days, fewer people showed up than in the previous days, so today, he finally got a seat.

Sitting in a small corner on the second floor, Zhao Xingzong awkwardly shifted in his seat. Although he had finally gotten a spot, it was a bit cramped.

He couldn’t help but glance at the man sitting at the same table. The man was also dressed like a scholar, but he was tall and muscular, sitting with his legs spread wide, taking up two seats.

Noticing Zhao Xingzong looking at him, the man even returned the stare provocatively, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ‘What? You don’t like it? Do you want to fight?’

Zhao Xingzong was already intimidated. After all, the man looked tough and imposing. Just as he was about to silently concede, the man sitting across from him suddenly coughed, and the tall man immediately showed a frustrated expression, turning his head away.

The man across from them coughed again and gently nudged the tall man’s knee. Reluctantly, the tall man moved his leg closer, still spread out but no longer taking up two seats.

He glared at the man next to him and muttered, “Why are you always picking on me? He started it–”

He didn’t finish his sentence because his knee was bumped again. The other man lifted his head, and Zhao Xingzong’s jaw dropped. This man was so beautiful, Zhao Xingzong finally understood the phrase “peerless beauty, unmatched in the world.”

…

Xiao Rong didn’t even look at the scholar across from him. He lowered his voice and said to Qu Yunmie, “The first three acts of the play change every five days. If you don’t watch it today, you’ll have to wait until you return to Chenliu. Are you planning to spend all your time watching strangers instead of enjoying the play?”

Qu Yunmie was quite unhappy, but he knew Xiao Rong was right. The play was arranged by Xiao Rong, the story was dictated by him, and others filled in the words. In a sense, this was Xiao Rong’s creation. Since he was about to go to war, he really shouldn’t let a stranger ruin their fun.

Qu Yunmie thought this way and had prepared to enjoy the play, but just then, he noticed Zhao Xingzong’s dazed expression and the foolish look on his face as though he was about to drool.

After a brief moment, nothing Xiao Rong said mattered anymore.

Qu Yunmie angrily said, “What a scoundrel! If you don’t want those eyes, I’ll dig them out for you!”

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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