The next morning, sunlight shone through the thin clouds, bringing a touch of warmth to the cold air.
Minglang took his strategist to listen to Wang Xiuxiu's lecture.
To be precise, it was the strategist who got up early and waited outside Minglang's tent with great enthusiasm, and forcibly dragged the person away.
This strategist's surname was Deng and his given name was Yuan. He was an uncle of the Ming general.
He had a unique habit: no matter where he was, he always liked to hold a feather fan and gently wave it.
Others might understand, but this is Lizhou! Lizhou, which is covered in ice and snow for most of the year!
Perhaps noticing Wang Xiuxiu's curious gaze, Deng Yuan suddenly turned around and glared at her fiercely.
Wang Xiuxiu was not the kind of person who would suffer in silence. She did not back down and slapped the neatly arranged fried noodle recipe on the table, then glared back with the same sharp eyes.
Seeing this, Deng Yuan looked a little embarrassed, lowered his head awkwardly, and muttered something that Wang Xiuxiu could hardly hear.
However, Wang Xiuxiu didn't have time to pay attention to him and enthusiastically opened the "little blackboard" she had prepared.
He cleared his throat and began to speak.
First, she explained in simple terms the important role of the economy and its profound impact on social development.
As the conversation gradually shifted to the realm of trade, Deng Yuan, who had initially been somewhat absent-minded, became completely engrossed, as if under a spell.
So engrossed was he that he even forgot to wave the feather fan in his hand, listening intently to every word Wang Xiuxiu said, nodding in agreement from time to time.
Minglang, who was sitting to the side, noticed Deng Yuan's change and couldn't help but glance at him sideways.
Seeing that Deng Yuan was completely oblivious and still lost in the sea of knowledge, Minglang coughed irritably.
However, the slight cough went unnoticed by Deng Yuan, as if it had vanished without a trace.
At that moment, it was as if the whole world consisted only of Wang Xiuxiu, who was talking eloquently in front of him. He stared at her intently, not blinking, afraid of missing even a single brilliant point of view.
Seeing this, Minglang gently nudged Deng Yuan a few times, but the other party seemed not to notice.
Therefore, Minglang had no choice but to intensify his efforts, hoping to pull him back to reality from his obsessive state.
But who could have predicted that Deng Yuan, like a startled beast, would suddenly wave his hand and forcefully slap away Minglang's outstretched hand.
Minglang, in pain, had no choice but to reluctantly withdraw his hand, a look of embarrassment on his face.
Fortunately, he quickly composed himself, sat up straight, and continued to listen attentively to Wang Xiuxiu's explanation.
Wang Xiuxiu, standing on the podium, naturally noticed the two students below the stage behaving like elementary school students.
However, she did not get angry. Instead, she smiled slightly and then became even more engrossed in explaining the next part of the lesson.
Time passed by unnoticed, and as get out of class was about to end, Wang Xiuxiu stopped talking and asked the two with a smile if they had any questions that needed to be answered.
Upon hearing Wang Xiuxiu's question, Minglang first snorted disdainfully, then extended his hand towards her.
Wang Xiuxiu understood and handed over the prescription with a smile.
In stark contrast to the bright and cheerful Deng Yuan was the model student.
He then posed several insightful questions to Wang Xiuxiu, each one hitting the nail on the head and offering much food for thought.
As Deng Yuan continued to ask questions, Wang Xiuxiu, who had initially looked relaxed, gradually stopped smiling and began to think seriously and answer each question one by one.
And what about Minglang? He never expected Deng Yuan to be so serious. For a moment, he stood there, his face growing increasingly gloomy and unpleasant.
Turning away seemed too abrupt, but staying to listen to Deng Yuan's endless questions was just too irritating.
In the end, Minglang stood there with a dark expression, unable to move forward or backward, feeling extremely awkward.
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