Yan Xianjue smiled but did not answer.
He felt that an old man who could write, "You may come pay your respects, but there's no need to come make wishes," on his epitaph would not mind such remarks.
His father had previously had the entire Ji Household banquet compiled into a book.
It had just been revised a few days ago, and he had burned dozens of copies printed on different kinds of paper at his grandfather's grave overnight, afraid the old man would not receive them down below.
But he did not tell Shen Fangli any of that directly.
He would treat them as little Easter eggs and let Shen Fangli discover the surprises herself.
Holding Shen Fangli's hand, he strolled back at an unhurried pace.
When she saw the yurt, Shen Fangli suddenly remembered something from earlier that day.
"By the way, what did you mean when you said Lü Hui was really pitiful this afternoon?"
Yan Xianjue shook his head. "I wasn't talking about him."
"I just felt that the way he acted at the time perfectly fit some of my stereotypes about twelfth graders."
Shen Fangli asked, "Like what?"
Yan Xianjue said, "Like suddenly realizing that people still have to keep living after the Gaokao."
Shen Fangli: "..."
Shen Fangli said sincerely, "I think that's a bit of an exaggeration."
Yan Xianjue spoke casually. "It's not that bad."
"Most people go their entire lives without knowing what they want."
"Ninety-nine percent of students grow up with the idea that the Gaokao is the goal of their lives. Once the Gaokao is over, that goal is gone. Wasn't Lü Hui exactly like that today?"
"Of course, compared to others, he has more options as the top scorer."
Shen Fangli admitted that his last point did make some