Hearing him speak like that, Zeng Mu seethed with anger. Fortunately, he managed to resist kicking Milger away, though he still could not help growling under his breath, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
Recognizing the anger in his tone, Milger smiled and nodded repeatedly. "I did it for your own good. We might even be able to use this opportunity to make our move."
Zeng Mu's anger instantly faded. So Milger had already thought of that. But... wasn't he still pushing him into a fire pit?
"Young master holding the embroidered ball! Please come this way!" the noble clan's steward called out.
The varied looks everyone gave him made Zeng Mu uncomfortable. He was used to taking a sword onto the battlefield and killing enemies, but being surrounded and stared at like this felt far too strange. He simply could not get used to it.
Yue Rushuang waved to him from the platform and began descending. Amid everyone's stares and murmurs, Zeng Mu moved toward her as well.
"Damn it! How did that brat get it?"
"What unbelievable dumb luck! No, even dumb luck doesn't begin to cover it! Fuck!"
"A beggar! An actual beggar! I fucking lost to a beggar! Damn it all!"
"...!"
Everyone murmured among themselves. Though they tried to keep their voices low, Zeng Mu heard every word clearly. He smiled indifferently. It seemed he had become an enemy in the eyes of those who had pinned too much hope on this, probably because he was a beggar.
With those mosquito-like murmurs still buzzing in his ears, Zeng Mu reached the foot of the Wooden Platform. Yue Rushuang walked toward him. Even from ten paces away, he could smell her fragrance: the delicate scent of cherry blossoms blooming in the spring sunlight, tinged with