He fanned the flames, saying, "Hurry up, anyone who chickens out is a coward."
Jingzi was furious, her mind hadn’t yet grasped that his words were taking advantage of her from all sides, yet she was already dying of urgency. At that moment, she grabbed a spoon and chopsticks, ready to jump off the chair and fight it out with someone, to decide the victor once and for all.
However, she was stopped the next second by a certain old-fashioned young girl.
"Jingzi, stop it, let’s eat," Yu Huaijin pulled the blue-clothed girl back to her seat, the latter crossing her arms and panting, huffing and puffing.
Yu Huaijin soothed her a few times, then looked up at Zhao Rong, her gaze somewhat meaningful, as if she had seen through his intention to divert the topic. She shook her head slightly and said nothing.
However, a certain scruffy-bearded shopkeeper was also growing impatient.
He waved his hand and muttered:
"Alright, knock it off with the diversions, kid, I’m asking you a question, and it’s such a simple one. Who do you think is the prettiest here?"
Zhao Rong glanced at Zhao Xifu, then looked down at the drinks, not making a sound immediately.
He thought this question was simply toxic, because no matter how he answered, he was the kind of half dead...
The most important part of this question wasn’t really who was the prettiest, but... his ’thought’ and attitude.
What, you ask isn’t Bingbing here, the troublemaker Zhao the shopkeeper also being henpecked... Eh, why is it "also", who else is there?
Cough, that’s not important, what’s important is that Zhao Rong thought that this shopkeeper Zhao could not possibly be both henpecked and a fool at the same time, how rare would that be?
So could a sincere ’Sister Bingbing is the most beautiful’ really solve this ’simple question’?
Zhao Rong glanced at the calm-looking Zhao Xifu...
At this moment, the air in Summer Insect Pavilion fell into a brief silence again.
Yet Zhao Lingfei, Su Xiaoxiao, Zhu Yourong, and other women were looking at Zhao Rong steadily, showing no signs of hurry or dissatisfaction.
Ah, considerately giving someone time to carefully think, rigorously verify, and organize the most correct few words.
Seeing this scene, Zhao Rong’s face darkened.
But of course, he couldn’t glare at them like he just fiercely punched the little girl.
The next moment, he suddenly turned his head: "Shopkeeper Zhao."
Zhao Xifu glanced at him sideward, "What do you want?"
Zhao Rong smiled, "Didn’t the shopkeeper say that you like rules the most? Then may I ask if there are any rules for this simple question, like how to judge right or wrong, and what the rewards and punishments are?"
Zhao Xifu’s eyebrows slightly raised, he picked up the chopsticks, and took a bite of his food.
He chewed slowly, then looking up at Zhao Rong, he seemed to suddenly realize, saying:
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, look at my memory... First off, whether what you say is true or false, I have my ways of knowing. As for the rules, well, they’re pretty simple, uncle won’t make it hard for you."
The scruffy, wheezy old shopkeeper grinned.
He raised a finger earnestly toward Zhao Rong:
"You only have one chance, you can only say one sentence.
"If it’s a lie, I’ll splash this cup of wine.
"If it’s the truth, I’ll pour this cup of wine out."
Upon these words, the table fell silent for three breaths.
The atmosphere solidified.
The next second, Zhao Lingfei, Su Xiaoxiao, Zhu Yourong, and several other women turned their heads frowning, wondering if they had heard wrong.
False, then splash it, true, then pour it out?
Even the usually gentle Bingbing couldn’t help it anymore, and spoke up, "Little Zhao..."
Zhao Xifu smiled and turned his head, shrugging and interrupting, "Bingbing, this is my wine, and I set the rules."
Bingbing hesitated to speak further, while at this moment, Qian’er couldn’t bear it any longer, her rice bowl clattering on the table.
She slammed her hands on the table, stood up, and fumed, "Goodness, what’s the point in answering this nonsense? If you don’t want to say it, just say so. What’s the point in beating around the bush and annoying people? You’re just intent on disgusting Rong’er bro... pah, pah, pah, shameless!"
Zhao Lingfei, Su Xiaoxiao, and Zhu Yourong also frowned in dissatisfaction and nodded in agreement upon hearing this.
Then, the women who had previously been "gently pressuring" him looked at the unruffled Zhao Rong, gently shaking their heads.
They signaled to Zhao Rong not to insist, as they were not really keen on this so-called Ice Lady Wine.
Originally quiet spectators Fan Yushu and Jia Tengying also spoke to comfort their friend.
On the side, having stirred up a storm with a single phrase and provoked many beauties to anger, Zhao Xifu remained silently smiling.
He did not look at Zhao Rong, who had stopped making noise after hearing this, his gaze leisurely sweeping over the people beside the dining table.
Zhao Xifu murmur something to himself indifferently, then yawned covering his mouth, stretching out to collect the pitch-black wine jug, apparently preparing to wrap up and leave.
As Zhao Qian’er stood up, her hands pressing down on the table surface, her small chest heaving quite dramatically.
At that moment, she suddenly turned to pull Zhao Rong:
"Rong’er bro, let’s go, never coming here again, Auntie Bing really wasted her time with this miser..."
Just then, a large hand lightly held down Qian’er’s hand.
"Finish the meal first." Zhao Rong spoke softly, pulling Zhao Qian’er back to sit down.
Qian’er sat on the chair, crossed her arms and turned her face away.
Zhao Rong calmly looked around at her and Qing Jun, then nodded gently at the apologetic and guilty Bingbing.
After a moment, Zhao Rong thought for a while, then turned his head.
"Shopkeeper Zhao, tell me, what’s the difference between splashing this wine and pouring it out?"
His tone was slightly curious, after all, there are quite a few customs in the world.
Just as Zhao Xifu, ready to leave with the wine, paused his action, he looked at the young Confucian scholar in front of him seriously inquiring with a legitimate face.