Liu Xinyu fell silent.
He picked up the purple clay teapot and topped up everyone's cup.
The tea was scalding hot, and white steam rose once again.
But Zhou Qiang broke the silence.
He looked at Liu Xinyu.
"You mean you're good at reading people because you grew up around your grandfather, seeing all sorts of people, and developed the skill that way."
"Qishan said he wasn't as good as you, not because he was stupid or lacked talent."
"But because he hasn't seen as many people as you have? He wasn't interested in this as a child, or rather, his attention was elsewhere."
Liu Xinyu stopped pouring.
He set down the teapot, turned to Zhou Qiang, and smiled.
"That's my big brother for you."
He put the teapot down and leaned back in his chair.
"And here I went to all that trouble taking the long way around. I just thought you'd find it too far-fetched if I told you directly."
"Reading people is a matter of practice, too. With a little talent, you just have to keep at it."
He sighed, then added,
"But Qishan was right. Once I started talking about Grandpa, I still went off topic."
At those words, Wang Xiaoliang's face grew a little hot.
That question had been circling in his mind all along, but the story's strange twists and turns had led him astray, making him forget what he had wanted to ask in the first place.
He, too, had wanted to ask why Fan Qishan's ability to read people fell short of Liu Xinyu's.
He felt that although Fan Qishan was strange, he probably wouldn't lie.
Liu Xinyu had already explained the reason in detail.
He had told a whole story to answer a single question.
Wang Xiaoliang remembered that the Book