The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Xu Wanyun led Wang Long through several corridors and around a grove of green bamboo.

Suddenly, everything became clear.

A building with blue bricks and gray tiles appeared before us, with a plaque hanging above the door.

The three large characters "Minglun Hall" are written on it, with upright strokes and a magnificent presence.

The doors of Minglun Hall were open, and the sound of students reading aloud could be heard from inside.

His voice was youthful and clear, carrying the unique vigor of a teenager.

Xu Wanyun walked to the window, stopped, turned to the side, and gestured for Wang Long to look inside.

Wang Long understood, walked to the window, and looked inside.

The Minglun Hall is very spacious and can accommodate about fifty or sixty people.

The tables and chairs are made of the finest nanmu wood, polished to a mirror-like smoothness, and arranged in a neat and orderly fashion.

Wang Long's gaze fell on the students in the classroom.

There were about twenty children, ranging in age from seven or eight to fifteen or sixteen.

There were both men and women, all dressed in the same blue robes, with black cloth belts around their waists and cloth shoes on their feet.

Everyone was holding a book and reciting it while swaying their heads.

Their voices were not loud, but they were perfectly synchronized, as if they had rehearsed hundreds of times, carrying a strange rhythm.

Wang Long's pupils contracted slightly.

He discovered that each child was enveloped in a faint light.

The light was faint, like the morning mist, almost imperceptible, but undeniably present.

The colors of the light are all different.

They emanated from the children's bodies, resonating with some invisible force in the world.

This is the righteous spirit cultivated by Confucian scholars!

Reading is a form of self-cultivation.

Understanding the principles is enlightenment.

This is the essence of Confucianism.

"Reading is good," Wang Long said with a smile.

Thinking back to my school days before I traveled through time, this is what children should be like.

Wang Long's gaze swept across the classroom, finally landing on the third row by the window.

There sat a girl, about eleven or twelve years old.

She wore two jet-black braids that hung down her chest, with two pale pink silk flowers tied to the ends of the braids.

Her skin was fair, her features delicate, and her eyebrows and eyes were like a painting; she bore a seven or eight-tenths resemblance to Luo Hanyi.

But their temperaments are completely different.

Wang Long looked at her, and the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.

The other children were all reading diligently, swaying their heads and looking devout.

She was the only one who, although her mouth was moving, was also reading along.

But his eyes darted around, glancing here and there.

He held the book crookedly in his hands, and every now and then he would secretly pull out a piece of osmanthus cake from his sleeve and quickly stuff it into his mouth.

With cheeks puffed out like a little hamster, it chewed twice and swallowed, then pretended nothing had happened.

Wang Long couldn't help but laugh when he saw her quirky and clever expression.

This child is nothing like Luo Hanyi.

The image of Qin Minglan's arrogant and flamboyant face flashed into his mind.

Especially that quick wit, it's like they were cut from the same mold.

Wang Long's gaze lingered on her face for a long time; his daughter was so adorable.

Although it was their first meeting, Wang Long couldn't help but think about it.

Has this child been bullied at the academy?

Does she eat well? Does she sleep well?

Are you sick? Are you homesick?

Wang Long's thoughts wandered further and further, plunging him into deep anxiety.

He had the mindset of an old father.

Although he lived two lives, he never had children.

But at this moment, he truly experienced the feeling of "wanting to give her the best of everything in the world".

Xu Wanyun stood beside him, looking at his nervous appearance, and couldn't help but smile.

"Sir, there's no need to worry."

Her voice was soft and gentle.

"Jiaojiao is doing well at the academy; no one bullies her."

Wang Long paused for a moment, then turned to look at her.

I would like to ask some more questions about Qin Jiaojiao.

A commotion suddenly broke out in the school.

He quickly turned his head and looked inside through the window.

There was a little boy in the front row of the school, about eight or nine years old.

He was lying face down on the table, his shoulders heaving as if he were crying.

Standing in front of the boy was a tall, strong boy, about twelve or thirteen years old, who was more than half a head taller than his peers.

With a broad back and thick waist, and a face full of fierce flesh, he looked like someone not to be trifled with.

He bared his teeth, waved his fist at the crying little boy, and muttered curses as if to threaten him.

The children around him all lowered their heads and dared not utter a sound.

Wang Long's brows furrowed instantly; as expected, no matter where he went...

School bullying exists in both cases.

Wang Long wondered if Xu Wanyun didn't care about such things.

Xu Wanyun wore a faint smile, her gaze fixed on the schoolroom.

Seeing this, Wang Long continued watching.

Qin Jiaojiao slammed the book in her hand on the table with a "smack" and jumped up from her chair.

She stepped onto the table.

With a "whoosh".

The writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on the table were scattered all over the floor.

With a leap, Qin Jiaojiao flew from the third row to the first row like a light swallow.

He was surrounded by a dark red aura of righteousness.

Wang Long stared wide-eyed.

He then discovered that Qin Jiaojiao was actually a fifth-rank martial artist.

Are all Confucian scholars this strong?

An eleven-year-old at the fifth rank, that's too monstrous!

Qin Jiaojiao stood on the table, blocking the crying little boy.

Looking down at the tall, strong boy, he angrily rebuked him.

"Zhao Tiezhu, are you bullying people again?"

Her voice was clear and loud, carrying an imposing presence beyond her years.

The entire classroom fell silent instantly.

Everyone looked up and turned to look this way.

When Zhao Tiezhu saw that Qin Jiaojiao was angry, his expression changed, and he subconsciously took half a step back.

Then he straightened his chest and put on a tough look.

"Qin Jiaojiao, mind your own business! He knocked over my inkstone, so what if I made him pay for it?"

"Did I knock over your inkstone?"

Qin Jiaojiao sneered and narrowed her almond-shaped eyes.

"You were the one who pushed the inkstone down, trying to extort money from someone. Do you think my eyes are just for show?"

Zhao Tiezhu's face turned bright red, and his finger trembled as he pointed at Qin Jiaojiao.

"You...you're talking nonsense! What proof do you have?"

"evidence?"

Qin Jiaojiao tilted her head, a mocking smile playing on her lips.

"My words are the proof."

As she spoke, she jumped off the table, looked up, and pointed at Zhao Tiezhu.

Although she was a full head shorter than the other person, her aura made it seem as if she were three feet taller.

"What? You want to have a match with me?"

Zhao Tiezhu's expression changed completely.

His face turned bright red!

At this moment, the children around them began to speak up.

"Sister Jiao is right, Zhao Tiezhu is the one bullying people!"

"I saw it all; he pushed the inkstone down himself!"

"Zhao Tiezhu is the worst; he bullies us every day!"

The entire discussion was a denunciation of Zhao Tiezhu.

Zhao Tiezhu's face grew increasingly grim, and the veins on his forehead bulged.

He roared angrily.

"Shut up, all of you!"

The entire classroom fell silent instantly.

"Qin Jiaojiao, I'm at the peak of the fourth rank. In a real fight, I might not be inferior to you!"

Zhao Tiezhu glared angrily at Qin Jiaojiao, thinking to himself.

If I defeat Qin Jiaojiao today, I will become the big boss of this school!

Qin Jiaojiao looked at him, her smile chilling.

Confucius said: "If I hear the Way in the morning, I can die content in the evening!"