By the time one reaches seventeen or eighteen, they should have martial skills like those at Zhou Liuying.
Among the sons of aristocratic families, that would already be quite impressive.
The young man looked at the letter which contained a fallen leaf from a tree beside the pond in the Xue family courtyard, Li Guanyi had held that leaf for a long time, his expression serene and gentle.
Xue Zhaoji had a money pouch in his hand, bulging, and he said:
"This is the current remaining profit from Changfeng Building."
Li Guanyi's eyes suddenly lit up.
Changfeng Building, ah!
Jiangnan's First Building, ah!
Having bought Flowing Wind Returning Snow Pavilion and still having so much left, a bulging pouch—could it all be golden beans? Erlang ah Erlang, the offer you made, truly, was a real great gift!
Xue Zhaoji, looking at the young fellow who was a bit fond of wealth according to Old Mr. Xue's assessment, smiled gently and said, "About Changfeng Building's operation."
