Even after the wine had flowed and the banquet had broken up, Sun Shaozong still could not fully make sense of Jia Zheng's words.
Was Jia Zheng truly set in his old ways, or merely playing the fool while hiding great wisdom?
Judging by his past conduct, the former seemed more likely.
But Jia Zheng had only recently returned from gaining experience in the provinces. Who could guarantee that he had not made tremendous progress during his two years in Jiangxi?
Forget it.
No matter what, the attitude Jia Zheng had shown was, at the very least, more beneficial than harmful to someone as adept at navigating all sides as Sun Shaozong.
Since that was so, there was no need to force the matter into complete clarity—at least, there was no need to rush.
In contrast, the matter of handing Ping Er over had already been delayed as long as it possibly could be.
Thus, after the thoroughly drunk Jia Zheng had been helped home to rest by Jia Baoyu, Sun Shaozong turned all his attention to this matter.
"Second Master, please be patient."
Perhaps feminization came with a reduced tolerance for alcohol, or perhaps he was drunk on something other than wine, but Jia Lian's tongue was already beginning to slur.
When he saw Sun Shaozong looking at him, he actually grew a little bashful. Reaching behind him, he pulled a peach-pink handkerchief from his waist, half-covered his face with it, and called out, "Someone, go to Xi Yun Pavilion and ask Ping Er to come here!"
As he spoke, his bleary drunken eyes narrowed as they measured Sun Shaozong's pectorals.
That penetrating gaze bored so deeply into his flesh that Sun Shaozong felt uncomfortable all over. He hurriedly excused himself to relieve himself, using a bathroom break to