"What?"
In the wooden hut of the Imperial Academy, the old scholar, with a jug of wine held aloft, froze in mid-air, his ancient and vigorous face filled with astonishment. He looked at the three individuals before him, his expression gradually twisting:
"Say that again?"
"I want to go to school."
Zhou Li sincerely repeated, "I want to go to the Imperial Academy."
Trembling hands, spilled wine, and a smile that was half-hearted. The old scholar looked at Zhou Li, slowly set down the wine jug, and then made a classic move.
Point, close eyes, burst into laughter.
"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha."
He laughed heartily, with unrestrained joy. The old scholar didn't just laugh uproariously; he was also hopping up and down, pointing at Zhou Li and laughing, appearing more like an uninhibited, delirious child than a man in his fifties or sixties.
It left Zhuge Qing stunned.
The Memory Stone in his hand went off without him realizing it.
"Laugh my ass."
