Liszt: Brother Ansu's Wisdom Far Surpasses His Own

"A grandson has betrayed me."

This was Ansu's first reaction upon seeing the newspaper.

But soon, he slowly came to his senses: could it be that someone had impersonated Calvin's name?

Unfortunately, Ansu wasn't the only one who slowly caught on to the trick.

Who was the first to come out, who was the second, who was the third.

Figuring out the order would make it clear.

Fellow villagers from the border could sense each other's thoughts.

Arthur pondered for a long time, his brilliant mind finally dawning with understanding. He looked at Ansu with a rather resentful expression.

Conversely, Liszt stared at Arthur with the same resentful gaze—and Ansu looked at Liszt with slight disdain: "You're bullying a pregnant man?"

"What a despicable fellow, using the same trick as me." They thought to themselves.

The three of them stared at each other, locked in a silent standoff. The air seemed to freeze. Warm sunlight streamed into the room, and the shadows of the trees on the balcony shifted with the light.

"How about," Ansu broke the silence, "we call it even?"

"Only your name wasn't impersonated," Liszt pushed up his glasses, his eyes glinting coldly. "Call it even for what?"

"Calvin and I are comrades who have been through thick and thin together," Ansu replied with a straight face. "If you used his name, it's equivalent to using mine."

Through thick and thin, I was born, you died.

Ansu was the birth, Calvin was the death, hence the "through thick and thin" relationship.

"Still can't call it even," Arthur stared at Ansu.

His handsome face was contorted in a grimace, and his carefree smile was gone. The thought of what awaited him at home made him tremble.

They had only lost face—Ansu hadn't even lost face, but he was about to lose his life!

"You took the money! You took the money yesterday, Brother Ansu," Arthur's eyes were full of resentment as he looked at Ansu. "Didn't we agree you'd help me pass the exam?"

He no longer trusted fellow villagers.

What do you mean, "took the money"? These barbarians from another world spoke so crudely. It wasn't money, it was the Progress Fund.

"So, are you sure you failed?" Ansu asked.

"I did the multiple-choice questions," Arthur replied.

That definitely meant he failed.

"And you?" Ansu shifted his gaze to Liszt.

"Hmph," Liszt elegantly pushed up his glasses, stating with confidence and grace, "The Goddess will favor me."

This one was also doomed.

Ansu mentally wrote off both of them.

He paused and began to think.

According to the original story, Arthur also failed.

The written test accounted for thirty percent of the total score. To pass, one needed very high scores in the remaining two exams. But Arthur's talent was all in being a Knight. As a Knight pursuing the path of a Sorcerer, his performance in the latter two exams would be dismal.

However, Arthur was a key character. Following the typical shonen trope of building up before a fall, this was the "fall" stage. After failing the exam, Arthur would be kicked out of his house. But by a stroke of luck, a year later, at his lowest point, he would encounter a fortuitous event and eventually achieve a comeback.

So, if he passed the Saint exam, that fortuitous event wouldn't be his. It would fall to Ansu.

Ansu's expression turned thoughtful. He first glanced at Arthur, noting his muscular physique and imposing stature, a natural prodigy in martial arts, brimming with martial prowess.

Then he looked at Liszt, observing his calm, elegant demeanor and thick skin. Even now, he refused to admit his failure, displaying an admirable persistence in shamelessness.

Most importantly, neither of them had high moral standards.

These two "卧龙凤雏" (two geniuses) could be of help in his own exam tomorrow.

No, they would be very helpful!

Ansu gradually formed a preliminary plan. A bright smile spread across his lips—this felt quite interesting.

"What are your candidate numbers?" Ansu asked.

"I'm number 59," Arthur said, not understanding why Ansu was asking.

"I am number 60."

Ansu's number was 61. It seemed the three of them from the border had been grouped together.

Does the examiner want to wipe us all out?

"I have a plan."

Ansu smiled calmly, "It can help everyone pass the Holy See's test."

He was the last to appear.

If the plan went smoothly, he wouldn't even have to take the exam.

Arthur looked up abruptly, gazing at Ansu like a drowning man clinging to a life raft, full of eagerness and anticipation. But he quickly shook his head and asked suspiciously, "Brother Ansu, you're not going to set me up, are you?"

"I never set anyone up," Ansu said kindly, his cyan eyes reflecting pure white light.

The appearances of these three were all deceptive: Arthur's image was unrestrained and carefree, a sunny and confident noble young master. Liszt's appearance was calm and elegant, looking like a learned and talented scholar gentleman.

And Ansu looked refined and clean. He tilted his head, his gray-white hair sliding down with the sunlight from the window, like a simple boy next door.

Arthur decided to trust his fellow countryman one more time.

"Okay, if Brother Ansu can save me this time,"

He seemed to have made up his mind, "I, Arthur Sunny, swear to the Goddess that from now on, I will truly recognize Brother Ansu as my boss!"

"And you?" Ansu turned his head to look at Liszt.

"I will not agree," Liszt replied calmly. He was a restrained and proud noble, "I will not agree with a noble who is unqualified in [Resolve] and [Willpower]."

Liszt was a noble of high standing. Low-class activities – his arrogant spirit did not allow him to do them.

For example, the despicable act of reading and reviewing.

"My plan,"

Ansu paused, resting his elbows on the desk, his slender fingers interlaced under his chin. "It is a trial that requires [Resolve] and [Willpower] to complete."

"Do you have that resolve?"

Sunlight streamed in, cut into shadows by the window lattice, dividing light and darkness on either side of the desk.

Liszt could clearly feel that Ansu's demeanor had changed: the sunny and cheerful big boy from before was gone, and a terrifying aura began to emerge from him.

"Gentlemen, are you willing to listen to my plan?"

Liszt had a feeling that something terrifying was about to come out of Ansu's mouth.

Ten minutes later.

Liszt's gaze at Ansu had changed, completely and utterly – he clearly felt that the person before him surpassed himself in both taste and cultivation, and his elegant gentlemanly spirit had deeply touched Liszt.

And as Ansu had said, --Only the noblest spirit, the most persistent willpower, and the most elegant and proud soul could complete this grand plan.

Who else but me?

"Brother Ansu, I'm with you," Liszt said solemnly to Ansu. "For this great cause, I have made my resolve."

"Boss Ansu," Arthur clasped his fists, "Me too."

There's one more chapter to refresh, thank you all for your support.