Right then, Luo Xiu, the center of everyone's attention, gracefully passed by the table where Zhao Rong was seated, tilting her head slightly midway. Nonetheless, she continued walking past everyone and ascended to the stage.
Zhao Rong looked at a plate of fish, seemingly seeking a spot to place his chopsticks, and leisurely said, "Stop gazing, gentlemen, the dish is almost cold. We are respectable scholars... we cannot afford to waste food."
"Ah? Oh, oh, oh."
Gu Yiwu and the other respectable scholars hurriedly returned to their senses, some clumsily or awkwardly picking up food or drinking tea to cover their expressions.
Everyone straightened their backs, sitting up neatly.
However strangely, none of them looked towards the distant stage any longer, instead focusing solely on their meal, eyes not straying.
Zhao Rong glanced at the once again quiet table and suddenly said to a burly man, "Brother Yiwu, what do you think?"
