Liu Xinghe stopped in his tracks and turned to look at him: "What's the matter?"
Zhu Scholar was not good at drinking, and tonight he wasn't the main focus, so everyone didn't force him to drink much. As a result, his mind was quite clear, though his face was impossibly red.
He pointed to the large camphor tree at the gate of the courtyard: "Let's talk over there!"
The camphor tree was large; it took two people joining hands to wrap around it. Its canopy was like an umbrella, and standing beneath it, one could smell a refreshing scent that dispelled much of the drunkenness.
Zhu Scholar rubbed his hands and didn't waste words: "Brother Lu, I will leave the mountain next month. My case has been overturned!"
Zhu Scholar's tale was indeed a tragic one.
From an early age, he was intelligent, passing the scholar's examination at fifteen, becoming renowned in the local area.
