Although Wang Yang ordinarily used no guile with Xie Xinghan, after watching her all this time, he understood that the young lady was mounting an offensive of tears.
Especially in her account of the reasons behind it: the story seemed to have a framework, yet its substance remained hazy; her words seemed to explain things, yet she danced around certain crucial points. She offered a sentence or two of background and left everything else blank, with the details entirely up to the listener's imagination. To Wang Yang, founder of the Wang Clan's rules of lying, this was all too familiar. He simply had not yet had a chance to try bursting into tears whenever questioned; Xie Xinghan had demonstrated that trick first.
But Wang Yang did not want to expose her. First, although the story contained some falsehood, there might still be truth among the lies. Second, seeing how earnestly she worked at her performance, he could not bear to pull the stage out from under her. Third, whatever proportion of Xie Xinghan's tears was acting, seeing her cry like this truly stirred his pity. Fourth, if someone really was trying to harm Xie Xinghan, Wang Yang would naturally have to intervene.
"Don't cry, Lady Xie. Leave this to me!" Wang Yang declared, pretending to be swept up in righteous indignation.
Xie Xinghan abruptly raised her head, looking fragile and somewhat flustered:
"Young Master, you mustn't act rashly! Having thought it over carefully, I really shouldn't trouble you with this. After all, those five masters of Classical Studies are renowned scholars of profound learning. Any one of them would be difficult enough to withstand, let alone all five together! Your talent may be great, but if you let your guard down for a moment and they find an opening while