I Like Your Silly Look

Batches of materials were delivered from Hengtong Headquarters, carried into Wanchun Pavilion by the tool-like brothers, while the neighboring Fengyue Cottage also gradually buzzed with activity.

On one side were the stunning women of the Hundred Flowers Ranking, singing and dancing gracefully; on the other, the skilled young ladies worked diligently.

Both sides seemed to be thriving.

Yet the owners of the two establishments were currently squatting at a tea stall across the street, sipping cheap tea from large bowls, swearing off worldly romance—because all their affection had been reserved for a certain cold fairy no longer among the living.

"Godfather, I was just looking for you—why are you here?"

Zhong Zhenyue crouched beside him with a list in hand, while Xie Xuan also stepped out, casually grabbing a bowl of tea.

"To ensure the Hundred Flowers Festival proceeds smoothly."

Li Mo shook his head.

"Huh? What kind of logic is that?" The bluntly straightforward Zhong Zhenyue looked utterly confused.

Xie Xuan clicked his tongue, secretly taking advantage of Zhong Zhenyue’s naivety: "Think about it—if Brother Li steps in, the girls will be calling him 'big brother' or changing outfits, too busy being charmed to care about anything else."

"Eh? Do they also want to fight Brother Li?"

The bewildered Zhong Zhenyue grew even more perplexed.

In his world, whenever a sworn sister called him "brother," she would soon feed him treats or give him gifts.

But shortly after, Zhong Ling would inexplicably get angry and challenge him to a sparring match—no cultivation levels allowed—before soundly thrashing him, despite his battlefield prowess.

Thus, in Zhong Zhenyue’s mind, "brother" = duel invitation.

"What does that have to do with fighting?" Li Mo saw a glimmer of wisdom in Zhong Zhenyue’s eyes—the not-so-bright kind.

"It’s a term of endearment women use to express admiration, like 'darling' or 'husband.'"

The moment Xie Xuan mentioned this, he couldn’t help but chew bitterly on a grass stem.

Whenever Hua Nongying spoke of Li Mo, it was always "Little Li, my darling" or "Little Li, my lord."

Even while washing Xie Xuan’s feet, her lips murmured another man’s name...

Pain. Agonizing pain. The old Xie Xuan would’ve shattered—thankfully, that version of him was already dead.

"Admiration?"

Zhong Zhenyue waved his hands dismissively. "No way, impossible, absolutely not. We’ve been fighting since we were kids."

Li Mo sighed and asked, "Back when she beat you, how did Zhong Ling act?"

"Gloating, saying she was the boss."

"And now?"

"She says she’ll never speak to me again... Sometimes she even cries after winning, saying I’ve got no heart, that I’m not as tough as when we were kids..."

Zhong Zhenyue fell into thought.

"Does she cry when other women get close to you?"

"What does that have to do with her?"

"Then how would you feel if another man approached her, liked her?"

Little Li posed the ultimate question.

"!"

Zhong Zhenyue froze as if struck by lightning, forcing an awkward laugh. "No, no way, impossible! Godfather, you’re joking, haha, oh man..."

Li Mo: "..."

Xie Xuan: "..."

Just then, Huang Donglai approached—he, too, disliked the flirtatious, trouble-stirring atmosphere of Wanchun Pavilion.

Li Mo asked, "Brother Huang, would you get angry if someone approached a woman close to you?"

Huang Donglai looked wary. "What woman around me?"

Li Mo turned to Xie Xuan. "If someone got close to—"

Xie Xuan replied with practiced calm. "It happens daily, but I’ve let go. If she finds happiness, it’d be a beautiful story—though it seems unlikely for now..."

"See? That’s a normal reaction."

Li Mo pointed at Huang Donglai and Xie Xuan.

"!!!"

Zhong Zhenyue leaned back as if electrocuted!

At this point, even the densest man would’ve had an epiphany.

Little Zhong fell into deep contemplation, the atmosphere turning heavy.

Li Mo cleared his throat, shifting topics.

"By the way, why aren’t you all checking out Wanchun Pavilion?"

"Fengyue Cottage is much cozier now," Xie Xuan remarked, eyeing the two exquisite buildings.

"I feel the same."

Huang Donglai nodded. "Oddly, I usually see women as trouble, but Fengyue Cottage’s ladies don’t feel dangerous... Why is that?"

Li Mo pondered. "Wanchun Pavilion’s women are more business-oriented; Fengyue Cottage’s are more... athletic."

"?????"

The trio didn’t get it but assumed it sounded profound.

After all, Li Mo was the man standing atop Ying Bing’s heart—he must know what he’s talking about.

If they didn’t understand, it was their lack of insight...

"Godfather, what should I do now?" Zhong Zhenyue asked, conflicted.

"Uncle Zhong doesn’t seem opposed, and you like Zhong Ling—why not try dating?"

"But how do you even date?"

Zhong Zhenyue fumbled, finding this harder than battlefield combat.

Mostly, it was unfamiliar.

He’d left the capital for the imperial city in his youth, surrounded by rough military men during his formative years—no maids, just bodyguards.

"Ah, now you’re asking the right person."

Li Mo raised three fingers with an air of authority.

When it came to love advice for his bros, he was always full of grand theories.

He proceeded to impart every trick he’d learned in his past life from the internet!

"First, take her on dates, make her blush..."

"Ohhh."

All three listened intently—Zhong Zhenyue and Xie Xuan for practical use, while Huang Donglai scribbled notes, preparing to dodge all correct moves if anyone ever liked him.

"Brother Li’s wisdom is unparalleled."

"Your words are... words."

Old Zhong, Old Xie, and Old Huang treated it like gospel.

Li Mo chuckled but grew puzzled—why wasn’t his system giving any feedback?

Even a little would do.

Was it broken?

"So, you’re quite experienced, huh?"

"Not really—"

Li Mo froze mid-sentence, sensing a familiar presence.

Her raven hair cascaded like a waterfall, adorned with snow-white hairpins that lent a frosty elegance. Dressed in a vermilion-and-ink phoenix-tail skirt, she exuded noble dominance, her serene eyes sharp yet composed.

Spotting Li Mo squatting roadside, lecturing over cheap tea, her lips curled into a faint, amused smirk.

Damn, the ice queen looks stunning in that. Worth burning the imperial robe...

That was Little Li’s first thought.

Meanwhile, Zhong Zhenyue, Huang Donglai, and Xie Xuan inexplicably snapped to attention, standing ramrod straight like soldiers under inspection.

"So, our evening out counts as a date? And you wanted to..."

Ying Bing studied Li Mo with a smile.

"That’s appreciating fine art! I approach masterpieces with reverence!"

"..."

Ying Bing rolled her eyes lightly.

Did he think she was a fool?

Or perhaps, the "artwork" Li Mo mentioned wasn’t referring to animation—did it mean something else?

"Why are you here?"

"The Hundred Flowers Grand Festival—it’s only right that I attend. Let’s go inside."

Watching the two walk away, Zhong Zhenyue, Huang Donglai, and Xie Xuan, who remained standing in place, fell into deep thought. So, Brother Li’s proposed method—did it actually work or not?

As they pondered this question, Ying Bing suddenly turned back. "Zhong Zhenyue."

"What is it, Mother?" Old Zhong called her "Mother" with even more conviction than he did "Father."

"Where there’s a will, there’s a way. When it comes to Zhong Ling, just be yourself."

Then, Ying Bing glanced at Li Mo, who was holding her hand, and added softly,

"If she truly cares for you, she’ll like even your silly side."

Li Mo: "??"

The young Li paused mid-motion, sensing the remark might have been aimed at him.