"Sir, who was he?"
After Master Zhong left, Aliya asked.
Li Ping'an said, "Master Zhong, one of the Academy's Four Confucian Scholars. A great scholar renowned throughout the world, with vast learning, particularly accomplished in poetry."
Zhao Ling'er asked in puzzlement, "Sir, if you knew who he was, why did you pretend not to recognize him?"
Although Li Ping'an was blind, he was not deaf to everything beyond his window.
Paper was not expensive in this era. In the Anbei Four Garrisons alone, more than twenty monthly gazettes were published by the authorities and private citizens.
They contained little more than phrases like "the nation prospers and the people live in peace" and "the winds and rains arrive in season," along with plenty of stories passed along the grapevine.
So it was hardly strange that Li Ping'an knew of the illustrious Academy and Master Zhong.
Li Ping'an smiled faintly. "Admitting I recognized him would have been a lot of trouble. That place doesn't suit me. You, on the other hand, should go home and discuss this properly with your parents. It's a good opportunity."
"Teacher, didn't we come here just to take those two little girls with us? Why did you want those two boys as well?"
Jing Yu asked in puzzlement.
Master Zhong said, "Perhaps it will prove quite interesting."
"What about that Li Ping'an? What a coincidence that both those little girls became his disciples."
Master Zhong smiled faintly without answering.
At the Zhao residence.
"The Academy!?"
Zhao Ling'er's father, Zhao Kai, was seated in the hall, listening to his daughter recount what had happened.
He sprayed out a mouthful of tea.
Zhao Kai was a highly renowned scholar who placed great importance on decorum in both speech and conduct.
When had Zhao Ling'er ever seen her