"See, isn't this a much nicer thing to say than before?"
The audience, two disappeared, and one was almost bursting with... A fly was left, turning green all over its little face, seemingly quite angry. Yet, this fly, its resistance seemed to be getting stronger. It hadn't blown up like before? Gone crazy? Lost composure?
Battle plan 1, barely effective.
Failed to drive away the fly, only added a bit of laughter, considered a failure.
"I won't play anymore," Qu Tan'er said, stopping immediately, not even glancing again at the guqin in front of her. She looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle with a sad little face. Damn these ancient people, always making women learn all those virtues and arts of the zither, Go, calligraphy, and painting—it's simply overkill.
"How about painting then?" Mo Liancheng gently rubbed her slightly reddened fingertips from playing the zither and asked softly.
"Not good, don't have the talent for it."
"Then accompany this king in painting?"
