"Little Anu, what were you reciting just now?"
Liu Chuanzhi put on a gentle expression and reached out to pat his daughter's head.
But she darted straight into Widow Yu's arms.
Liu Chuanzhi's outstretched hand froze awkwardly in midair, and his face immediately darkened.
But before Widow Yu, one of the few lovely women in Daliushu Village—and even in all of Xiahe County Town—
how could Liu Chuanzhi possibly lose face?
A scholar should be broad-minded and magnanimous. Besides, he would soon become a Xiucai master; there was no need to fuss with a child.
"I was, just now, reciting to my mother the poem Brother Yue taught me." Though this smiling fellow before her did not look like a good person at all, and Anu feared him from the bottom of her heart,
when she heard his question, she still raised her little chin slightly and answered proudly.
"Hehe, Little Anu, you mean Fang Yue, right? What poems could he possibly know? Don't tell me he tricked you." Liu Chuanzhi dismissed it. The other man was merely a Martial Scholar who had lucked into becoming a Juren.
What was a Martial Scholar? A crude martial brute. His thigh might not even have been thicker than the other man's arm.
But in the realm of essays and poetry, he was a genius whose poetic fame had spread throughout Xiahe County Town. Liu Chuanzhi believed he could crush Fang Yue by ten streets without effort.
"Nonsense, you're talking nonsense! Brother Yue would never trick me."
How could the little girl allow anyone to speak of Fang Yue that way? She clenched her tiny fists and glared at Liu Chuanzhi, cheeks puffed out in anger.
"Hmph, this little girl truly doesn't know the height of heaven or the depth of earth. My