"..." Lin Zihan whispered to his younger brother beside him, "Is he talking about himself? His clothes look so tattered that no one has mended them for him?"
"I think so too." Lin Ziqiu nodded and muttered to himself.
The middle-aged scholar, who was smoking and whose face was full of concern for the country and its people, paused.
"Considering you're still young, I won't pursue this further! Practice writing one hundred large characters today," the middle-aged scholar said coldly.
He didn't notice that a little kid had walked up to him, tugged at his clothes, and said in a childish yet extremely cruel voice, "We don't study anymore."
"Not going to school? What do you plan to do in the future?" The middle-aged scholar frowned, looking worried.
“You’re already shit.” Lin Wanyue tilted her head back and told him seriously.
Lin Zheyun was a born martial artist who got a headache just looking at books. Now, seeing this middle-aged scholar made him even more uncomfortable. He felt uneasy all over, as if he had thorns growing on his body.
I really want to grab my little sister and run away!
"Little sister, don't get so close to him! He's a charlatan!" Lin Zheyun warned.
It's terrifying enough that it's a ghost, but it's a ghost master too!
That buff is fully stacked!
"What nonsense are you spouting? Instead of studying properly, you've managed to tell me such rubbish!" The middle-aged scholar blew his beard, clearly very angry.
“Ghosts don’t have shadows, only silver does, look!” Lin Wanyue took out a small mirror from her bosom, reflecting the mottled patterns on the wall and the dusty table.
But there wasn't a single middle-aged scholar smoking a cigarette.
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