The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 359

Xu Wan considered Luo Jingfeng's increasingly fearsome reputation—it certainly seemed plausible he might do such things. But Zong Zhao said, "He wouldn't harm the innocent."

"Oh?" Not just the young students, even the private tutors and Baili Xi turned to look, their expressions brimming with curiosity. frёeωebɳovel.com

At this point, every official in court knew of Zong Zhao's close ties with Luo Jingfeng. Some speculated Zong Zhao had yielded to the Luo family's influence and aligned himself with them, while others guessed he was the emperor's tool to bring Luo Jingfeng down. Yet no one believed they were simply friends.

Now, Zong Zhao seemed to be defending Luo Jingfeng. Could it be that Luo Jingfeng wasn’t as terrifying as the rumors suggested?

But clearly, Zong Zhao didn’t elaborate further.

Zong Jincheng, due to his unique relationship with Luo Jingfeng, didn’t press the matter in this setting. Without the "little troublemaker" leading the charge, no one else dared to question Zong Zhao either, and the curious glances quickly faded.

Xu Wan stepped forward to conclude, "Alright, that’s all for today’s discussion. After class, review carefully and take General Zong’s lesson on ‘changing form without losing essence’ to heart. Strive to broaden your thinking when facing challenges in the future. And remember—just because someone humbly says their ideas are similar to yours, don’t let it inflate your ego. Confidence is good, but arrogance leads to defeat. Got it?"

"Got it!" the students chorused.

Baili Xi took his leave, and the tutors dispersed to discuss follow-up teaching plans for the children. Jincheng and He Zheng walked hand-in-hand to the ancestral hall to write their reflections, while Shen Yibai and Wei Xinglu stayed behind to share amusing stories about training monkeys with Zong Wenxiu.

In an unnoticed corner, Xu Wan smiled and said to Zong Zhao, "You’ve worked hard. Shall we go?"

"Alright." Zong Zhao stood and followed her out.

On their way back to the courtyard, Xu Wan chatted casually, "I’ve noticed you’re quite humble. You often say things that make others feel they’re just as capable as you."

Zong Zhao replied, "Do I?"

"You do," Xu Wan turned to face him. "Last time, you told me Jincheng’s improvement was all thanks to me and the crown prince. But I disagree. Your parents’ unwavering trust in me played a part too, and if you hadn’t returned in time, the prince might not have made it. Or maybe it’s just luck—I happened to have open-minded in-laws, and the prince happened to have you return just in time?"

A faint smile touched Zong Zhao’s lips as he echoed, "We’ve both been very lucky."

Xu Wan tilted her head, studying him. His smiles had become more noticeable lately. Jincheng had even asked how she could tell when Zong Zhao was smiling—wasn’t it obvious?

"You should smile more often. It makes you less intimidating," Xu Wan said as they walked. "Though I must say, your temper is quite peculiar—sometimes explosive, other times incredibly gentle."

Zong Zhao kept pace beside her. "Which do you prefer?"

Xu Wan pondered. "Each has its merits. A fiery temper is satisfying when dealing with villains, while a gentle one feels comforting to loved ones. The clash of extremes might feel jarring at first, but once you get used to it, it’s rather nice. Oh, and that ‘death remonstrance’ joke you made earlier? That was an interesting way to put things."

Zong Zhao seemed to reflect on this, as if grasping a new way to communicate.

By the time they reached the house, their conversation had flowed effortlessly. Upon entering, Xu Wan spotted the quilt fallen from the narrow daybed—a common occurrence, though today no maid had noticed. Instinctively, she bent to pick it up.

Zong Zhao stepped forward and took the quilt from her hands. "I’ll call for a fresh one."

Xu Wan had been about to suggest summoning Cui Zhi, but his initiative made her chuckle. "Look at you, General—so diligent, handling your own affairs."

Her ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌‍amused gaze lingered on him, and Zong Zhao felt a warmth in his chest. "It’s only right," he said with a nod before carrying the quilt away.

Watching his retreating figure, Xu Wan couldn’t help but laugh softly.

"Such an obedient general," she murmured. "Like a well-behaved child. Well, no—Jincheng and the others weren’t this compliant at first."

Indeed, comparisons made it clear: Zong Zhao was far easier to get along with than those unruly boys.

Xu Wan exhaled deeply and decided to brainstorm topics for the next discussion session. But as she settled at the desk, her eyes fell on an unfurled painting.

The scene depicted a dark courtyard, where a playful woman held a lantern aloft while a small boy stretched eagerly on tiptoe, his face alight with excitement. The lantern cast a soft golden glow, its light speckled like fireflies.

—It was her and Jincheng.

"Who painted this?" Xu Wan marveled at the lifelike rendering of the mother and son, the subtle colors added with an unrefined yet truthful hand.

She glanced around the spacious bedroom—only a large bed and the daybed furnished it, and the desk was shared between her and Zong Zhao’s belongings. If not her, then it must have been him.

Her gaze drifted to the window. From this angle, a slight opening would have framed last night’s lantern scene perfectly. So Zong Zhao had been watching from inside.

She wondered: What had his expression been like then?

The window slightly ajar, his profile sharp yet softened, perhaps, by the warmth of the moment he sought to capture?

Lost in thought, Xu Wan found herself grinding ink. Dipping the brush, she added a tiny window in the lower corner of the painting—a distant, half-open frame with the barest hint of a man’s sidelong glance, meticulously sketched stroke by stroke.