In the morning, he would practice martial arts; in the afternoon, he would practice calligraphy; and in the evening, he still had a lot of homework to do.
After bidding farewell to Lan Zhao, Feng Guang accompanied Xian Mo on the way back to Yihe Palace. She looked at the wound on his face left by Lan Zhao during their battle and felt heartbroken. "That Lan Zhao was too reckless. How could he let you get hurt? And he even scratched your face. What if it leaves a scar?"
"My master said that it is an honor for a man to have wounds."
Feng Guang was afraid that the child would believe it and leave scars all over her body in the future, so she hurriedly said, "Amo, listen to me carefully. You can't have any injuries, especially not scars on your face. If you have too many scars on your face, you won't look so pretty anymore, and you won't be able to find a wife in the future."
Xianmo stopped and thought for a moment before asking seriously, "Is it true that finding a wife depends on her looks?"
“That’s not entirely true…” Feng Guang explained to him carefully, “But you have to understand that if a person is good-looking, others will be more willing to interact with him and try to understand his thoughts. Although looks don’t represent everything, sometimes a lot of things really do depend on looks. At the very least, a good-looking face can bring you many opportunities.”
"And what about the scenery?"
"What?"
He asked, "Wouldn't someone with good looks be more interested in getting to know someone who is not good-looking than someone who is not?"
"Well..." she coughed awkwardly, "Although I want to deny it, it is indeed the truth."
It's not just her; it's a common problem for many people. When a good-looking person stands next to someone who isn't so good-looking, other people's eyes will subconsciously be drawn to the former.
The concept of being attracted to good looks is a valid one throughout history and across cultures.
"I see."
Fengguang: "What do you understand?"
Xianmo did not answer. Just like when he listened to the story of Snow White last time, he seemed to have gained a strange understanding, and he took this understanding with him and fell into his own world.
Then the scenery makes one's heart itch.
Suddenly, a football appeared and rolled to Xianmo's feet. He looked down at it, then looked up again and saw an eight- or nine-year-old boy running towards him.
The little boy, seeing Xian Mo with a sword at his waist, dared not approach. Then, as if he had thought of something, curiosity filled his innocent eyes. "You...you are my royal brother?"
Xianmo did not deny it, but chuckled and casually asked, "Who are you?"
Feng Guang looked at Xian Mo in surprise. He, who used to be averse to smiling, now knew how to greet people with a smile.
"I am Xianlong..." The little boy grinned widely. "Eldest brother, you are my eldest brother, aren't you?"
Everyone thought he was just an ordinary prince, but who would have thought he would actually be the child of Consort Yun?
Feng Guang had never met Consort Yun, so she couldn't judge the resemblance between the mother and son. But now that she saw the child, she cupped her face in her hands and exclaimed, "What an adorable little boy!"
"Hmph." Xianmo stopped laughing and let out a light snort.
"Ahem..." Feng Guang cleared his throat, "Of course, he's still not as cute as our A Mo."
Seeing Xian Rang's suddenly changed expression, Xian Long blinked her eyes, which were about to overflow with tears, and asked, "Eldest brother, don't you like Xian Long?"
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