Jun Wu Yi shook his head with a faint, disbelieving smile, which drew a matching chuckle from the little Yang Mo beside him. Though the child hadn't grasped the full meaning of the 'great master Jun's' words, he certainly knew that plain shredded potatoes and boiled water tasted awful.

Tang Yuan, being overly stout and broad-minded, was naturally carefree and possessed a rather poor memory. He had utterly forgotten the substance of the earlier conversation. This current speech was purely improvisation, yet relying only on a faint residue of prior impressions, he managed to spin it into something surprisingly coherent—truly a remarkable talent.

While Fatty Tang continued his incessant drone below, Young Master Jun had lost all interest in listening. He gazed at Yang Mo with a gentle smile. "Well, feeling better now, little Miss Yang?"

Yang Mo’s handsome, delicate face instantly clouded over. He was usually extremely sensitive about Jun Mo Xie calling him 'little miss,' yet in this moment, he completely forgot to retort. He merely snorted again through his nose and sullenly turned his head away. Although the heir to the King of Equality was clever and far sharper than the average child, he was, after all, only ten years old. Faced with such a humiliating previous incident, it was natural for him to be unable to calm down in a short time. It wasn't just him; even an adult without deep reserves of composure would struggle to withstand it.

"What good does being angry do!" the great killer Jun scoffed, stretching out his legs in the classic 'Erlang' posture, swinging them idly. "When you get bullied, all you know how to do is get angry, and you can’t do anything else. If that's the case, you might as well not be angry. Good for nothing."

"If being angry is useless, then what do I do that is useful?" Yang Mo, having held back tears for a long while, finally let them spill out in a rush.

"Calling you 'little miss' wasn't wrong at all; you cry at the slightest thing! What are you crying for? A true man doesn't shed tears at every little thing; it's shameful! No wonder people bully you!" Jun Mo Xie said dismissively, grabbing a large apple from the table and taking a loud, sharp bite. "Is crying useful? Does crying solve problems? If you keep crying, you get out! Go cry somewhere else! I won't say another word to you, and I certainly won't offer you any ideas to vent your frustration."

"I won't cry." Yang Mo quickly wiped his tears, though he still choked back a sob or two, looking persistently at the great master Jun. "Brother Mo Xie, Father says you are the wisest person; tell me, what should I do? Those three have been bullying me since childhood. Every time I see them, my heart pounds with fear, and I can’t think of anything except wanting to run away immediately... Brother Mo Xie, tell me, how can I stop them from bullying me? How can I get revenge and vent my anger!?"

"Revenge and venting frustration? That's impossible," Jun Mo Xie replied without even batting an eyelid, sitting back with supreme composure. "Their father is the Emperor. In the mundane world, what is the greatest power? The Emperor is the greatest! If the Emperor's son wants to bully you, what can you possibly do? Just endure it. Who told you that your family background wasn't as good as theirs?"

"But I don't want to endure it. Brother Mo Xie, Father says you are the cleverest; nothing can stump you..." Yang Mo grabbed Jun Mo Xie’s right hand and shook it vigorously. "Just give me an idea, I'm begging you, Brother Mo Xie..."

"Stop, stop, stop right there," Jun Mo Xie quickly pushed his hand away impatiently. "This issue isn't something cleverness can solve. His father is the Emperor; your father isn't. How can you expect me to help you? Truly, there's no way! Not a single method!"

Yang Mo froze, and instantly, water pooled in his eyes, on the verge of flowing out. His small mouth puckered, ready to burst into loud sobs. Just then, a sudden light flashed in his eyes, and the impending cry was swallowed back down. His eyes sparkled, and he murmured quietly, "Brother Mo Xie, you just said, 'Their father is the Emperor; your father isn't'..."

"Why isn't my father the Emperor? We both share the same Imperial Grandfather as our father. Why is my father just a Prince while Imperial Uncle is the Emperor? I am also the Imperial Grandfather's direct bloodline; by what right can they bully me when I cannot resist at all?" Yang Mo asked the great master Jun, his round eyes wide and clearly defined.

"You mentioned the Imperial Grandfather and direct bloodline just now; those are matters within your family. How would I know?" Jun Mo Xie sounded slightly annoyed. "Perhaps your father was like you back then—useless—bullied as a child and didn't dare resist. He didn't even dare to utter a sound. It became a habit, so when he grew up, he could only accept being bullied, naturally failing to become Emperor! That’s why even his son is now being bullied!"

"I don't want to be bullied anymore!" Yang Mo suddenly clenched his small fists. "And I don't want to be bullied when I grow up! And my descendants, I don't want them to be bullied either!"

"That's difficult to manage, truly," Jun Mo Xie sighed with false sincerity.

"Is only becoming the Emperor the way to avoid being bullied? So that I won't be bullied, and my descendants won't be bullied either?" little Yang Mo asked.

Jun Mo Xie sighed again. "I don't know. I honestly don't know!"

"I want to be the Emperor too; do you think that works?" Yang Mo asked, his large, innocent eyes wide open.

"You? You just said you are your Imperial Grandfather's grandson, so naturally, you have the qualification!" Jun Mo Xie glanced sideways. "You have the basic qualification, perhaps, but everything else is too far off. You're far from qualified!"

"Then please tell Brother Mo Xie what it takes to be qualified? I don't want to be bullied anymore!" Yang Mo inquired.

Just as Jun Mo Xie was about to answer, a thunderous coughing sound erupted from where Jun Wu Yi, Third Master Jun, was standing. It sounded like someone suffering from consumption, ensuring everyone could hear. Such a deafening cough, yet it was strictly confined within this private room—truly worthy of a Heavenly Profound master, capable of such precise control. It was astonishing!

Third Master Jun found the conversation increasingly alarming. He had initially been trying to cheer the child up, but the topic had twisted and turned until it reached sedition—blatant, naked sedition! With Jun Mo Xie’s current method of educating children, little Yang Mo probably wouldn't need more than a month or two under the guidance of the Grand Strategist Jun—well, if it took that long, it would be underestimating the Grand Strategist's methods. A few days, at most, would be enough to successfully turn the heir of the King of Equality into a staunch rebel, the kind willing to die without regret.

What on earth is this boy trying to do?

"That question? I can't answer that for you. When you go home, don't ask your father either. Your father will surely say: 'Good! They're teaching you a lesson for me! And if you behave yourself, who would dare bully you?'" Jun Mo Xie mimicked the tone of a Prince.

"How did you know? Every time I'm bullied, my father almost always says that. But they still bully me, and they just get worse and worse," Yang Mo blinked, his face full of admiration—this Brother Jun was truly brilliant.

Because my grandfather said the same thing, Jun Mo Xie thought privately, but he didn't say it aloud. He snorted a couple of times. "Of course, I know. I also know you're a little traitor; whatever people tell you, you run straight back and tell your father, right?"

"I would never betray a friend! Father says people who betray friends are bad people, and I am a good person, so I absolutely will not betray a friend!" Little Yang Mo’s tender face flushed deep red.

"Why are you getting worked up?" Jun Mo Xie rolled his eyes at him. "But there’s no method. How about I tell you a story to pass the time first?"

Yang Mo drooped his head, listlessly agreeing, "Okay."

Jun Wu Yi, standing nearby, finally managed to relax his heart. He secretly wiped a bead of cold sweat. These two little lunatics finally stopped discussing that sensitive topic and started telling stories. I was nearly scared out of my wits just now..."

"This story is called 'The Xuanwu Gate Incident,'" Jun Mo Xie said with a sly smile. And so, Emperor Taizong Li Shimin became the Prince's heir, while Li Jiancheng and Li Yuanji became Li Shimin's older cousins who were also the younger cousins who loved to bully him... One of the cousins endured it again and again until he could bear no more. At the Xuanwu Gate, he killed the two cousins and seized the throne himself, finally free from being bullied by others.

At first, Jun Wu Yi could listen alongside Yang Mo with a gentle smile. He often enjoyed listening to Jun Mo Xie tell stories; for instance, he was mesmerized by a tale called 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms.' Seeing that Jun Mo Xie was about to tell another story, and one he hadn't heard the name of before, he naturally paid close attention.

But as the Grand Strategist Jun guided his narrative, before Jun Wu Yi could even hear the end, the nerves that had just relaxed instantly snapped tight again—tighter than before. A wave of cold sweat instantly drenched his inner garments.

This 'Story King,' the great master Jun, could frighten a Heavenly Profound master to this state with a single story. It’s safe to say that this achievement, if not unprecedented, is certainly unparalleled!

My heavens, is today intended to scare this Blood-Clothed General, Third Master Jun, to death once and then frighten me again? Jun Mo Xie, what kind of ridiculous, earth-shattering story are you telling?!

Oh, today, if you were simply inciting rebellion, little Yang Mo might have heard it, vented the rage in his chest, and that would be the end of it—children don't hold grudges. But by telling this story... isn't that pouring oil onto the fire?!

"Killed well! That's how it should be done! Without mercy!" little Yang Mo shouted excitedly, waving his hand in applause. A strange light flickered in his eyes—was it longing? Or desire? Or perhaps fanaticism, or something else entirely?

Jun Mo Xie’s gaze flickered. That’s enough. If he said much more, how much could a child possibly remember? A seed must be watered and nurtured gradually to grow into a tree. Throwing it into the vast ocean will only cause it to drown.

Down below, a strange, potent fragrance suddenly wafted out, causing a wave of suppressed gasps. Those upstairs all looked over.

The auction of the Heaven-Grade fine wine, following its grand buildup, had finally begun. On the stage, there was now a man of imposing stature, nearing fifty, spirited and refreshed, dressed in neat green robes. His eyebrows were sharp as swords, lending him a severe air.

Upon seeing this person, even Jun Mo Xie was greatly surprised. Was this the slovenly Old Song the Third? Clothes truly made the man, and the horse made the saddle. Now properly dressed, his back was straight, his waist wasn't stooped, and the man looked utterly transformed.

"Offering you a cup of wine, sending you a body full of wounds. Song Shang?!" As Old Song the Third appeared, someone in the crowd immediately recognized him. Song Shang, rumored to be a Heavenly Profound level master! And now, he was serving as the auctioneer for the Noble Hall!

Truly... the pinnacle of nobility.

The thick, potent aroma of wine drifted through the air, and everyone couldn't help but take a deep sniff. Based on the scent alone, this wine deserved the title of Heaven-Grade fine wine! Everyone instantly grew impatient.

Behind Princess Ling Meng, the figure in black robes sniffed, a peculiar light shooting from his eyes. As a sovereign, he too had never tasted such a fine wine, showing just how rare it was.

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