As expected, his nephew was just as he had said, mediocre in talent and dull-witted.,Xiao Quan's brows furrowed. Clearly, being thrown next to horse manure was a stark contrast to the splendor of the red lanterns and candles, yet here it was.,Under the moon, a slender maiden hid behind a nearby tree of longing, hearing Xiao Quan's poem. Her heart stirred, drunk in the quiet beauty of its imagery.。