"I suggest you recite that poem less often in the future."
The old scholar said sincerely.
"Then I'll choose a different one."
Zhou Li cleared his throat, his facade of loyalty to the country and emperor was nauseating: "For the welfare of my country I would lay down my life, what hesitation should I have because of fortune or misfortune?"
"Oh, this verse is somewhat acceptable."
The old scholar raised an eyebrow, surprised that Zhou Li's education was not too shabby.
"Alright, enough chit-chat."
Zhou Li waved his hand and sighed, "Is there really no other way?"
"Let me think."
The old scholar glanced at Tang Wan who was small in stature, yet the dragon robe was giantsize on her, making her look both majestic and ridiculous. Just like a toothpick stirring a large vat, filled with the aesthetics of a postmodern madman.
"I can't think of anything."
