Wenchang was mortified. Although his "fuck you" had not been particularly loud, no one around him was mortal. Their teeth were good, their appetites were good, and naturally, their bodies were healthy too. Their hearing was especially sharp, and a whole crowd of little brats and youngsters turned to look at him.
Wenchang frowned, his face flushing scarlet. He, a dignified Imperial Lord and a model for scholars, had actually cursed like a shrew in the street? The gazes around him kept sweeping over him, and the children all gaped, seemingly unable to accept what they had just witnessed. Where was your restraint? You're supposed to set the standard for scholars. How could you act like this?
Under those gazes, Wenchang could distinctly feel the corner of his eye twitching rapidly, almost trembling, one spasm after another.
It was so embarrassing, like walking all over town without realizing a strip of toilet paper was hanging out behind your backside, only for everyone to see it. The inner torment made every moment feel like an eternity.
What he wanted most right now was to find a crack in the ground to crawl into, then lie in bed with the covers pulled over his head. Imperial Lord? Dignity? Fuck all that.
"Children don't know any better!" Matchmaker Yue stepped in to smooth things over. He would have been better off saying nothing. To Wenchang, those words were particularly grating, as though he were saying, He's just a child. Don't stoop to his level. Children speak without malice.
Fuck you. Wenchang felt that Matchmaker Yue was only there to disgust him. A phrase came to mind: a child's pure heart. Children had no ulterior motives; everything they said was true. Clearly, these little brats' respect and affection for Natural Daoist came straight from