He tricked his amnesiac partner into becoming crippled.

Chapter 233 The Marquis Has No Clever Heart 10

Right Lang is practicing boxing in the martial arts arena.

Liang Jinglan appeared in the martial arts arena and made a beckoning gesture, his expression serious: "Right Lang, come here."

Youlang silently swallowed, racking his brains to think about recent events, not daring to look at Liang Jinglan's tense profile.

Liang Jinglan, finding it too slow, pulled him aside, looked him up and down, and after a moment's hesitation, tentatively asked:

"My uncle says you're quite cunning."

"No, absolutely not, I'm just a roughneck."

Right Lang was about to cry. "My lord, it's really frightening that you said he's scheming with such a stern face."

What are you denying?

Right Lang was nervous and uncertain: "Should I admit it or deny it?"

Liang Jinglan's eyes lit up: "You're nervous!"

"...Yes, yes."

"Why are you nervous?"

Under his boss's expectant and eager gaze, Youlang became even more nervous. "Because, because you are my boss... I'm scared."

"So that's it!"

Liang Jinglan suddenly realized.

So the reason he gets nervous when he sees Brother Yuanjun recently is because he treats Brother Yuanjun as his superior.

After his uncle left, he was worried that no one would take care of him. Turns out, he had already found someone to take care of him long ago!

"Right Lang, you're quite good."

The Right Gentleman, who was inexplicably praised: ? ? ?

"...Thank you, Lord Marquis."

"So how can I not be nervous?" Liang Jinglan decided to ask his subordinates for advice.

When your boss points out a problem and asks you for a solution, what do you say?

First, point out your superior's mistakes.

Second, point out your own mistakes.

Right Lang was cowardly; he chose the second option.

"So you're saying you're nervous because we don't talk to each other much and don't see each other often?"

"...Yes, and also, the Marquis is too strong, making me feel ashamed of myself."

That's true.

His dark pupils, honed by the winds and sands of the northern frontier, and the murderous aura emanating from his scarlet cloak, made him seem like an eagle locking his throat. His tall figure drew near, casting an oppressive shadow over him.

He was muscular, not as bulging as a brute, but exceptionally strong.

A look of joy appeared on Liang Jinglan's face.

He said that it was because Brother Yuanjun was too outstanding that he felt ashamed of himself and couldn't compare, which made him nervous and deliberately avoid him.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the happier he became. He turned to Youlang and asked, "So what are you going to do next?"

Right Lang: "Learn more from the Marquis, interact with the Marquis more, and improve yourself."

"That's right!"

Liang Jinglan left with a look of accomplishment on his face. Before leaving, he made a point of asking Youlang to follow him, saying that he wanted to learn and exchange ideas more.

In the evening, he gave his right-hand man a lot of instructions about military matters, and seemed to be thinking of leaving for a few days.

Right Lang was confused. Was the Marquis leaving?

Zuo Lang felt jealous. Wasn't it agreed that no one would resort to backstabbing or flattery, and that everyone would rise to power based on merit?

You traitor, You Right Lang.

He glared fiercely at Youlang.

The change was too drastic, and Liang Jinglan noticed it, recalling the way his brother Yuanjun had taught him to manage his subordinates.

"Left Lang, you and Right Lang work together. Right Lang is in charge of doing the work, and you are in charge of supervising."

After saying that, he mounted his horse. "I'm going to study with the strategist for a few days. Don't let me down with the frontline affairs. Send someone to deliver urgent messages."

The two stood upright, their voices booming: "Yes!"

Liang Jinglan kept in mind Youlang's three "more" principles: more communication, more contact, and more learning.

To accomplish these three things, I must first meet with Brother Yuanjun.

He took a breath: "Don't be nervous, don't be nervous. We all have one nose and two eyes, what's there to be nervous about?"

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst.

Liang Jinglan dismounted and went straight into Wen Yan's study.

empty?

Where is the strategist?

The subordinate replied respectfully, "I've gone to the fields to inspect the crops."

"When will you come back?"

Just as his subordinate was about to reply, Liang Jinglan, clearly more anxious, said, "Never mind, I'll go find her now."

He hurriedly left after saying that.

He is now eager to prove that he won't get nervous.

When Liang Jinglan arrived, Wen Yan was looking at a heavy string of things that looked like large stones piled together.

Upon seeing the visitor, she raised an eyebrow slightly: "So, the Marquis finally has some free time?"

Liang Jinglan felt awkward and mumbled in response, "Military affairs are very busy..."

He was racking his brains for an excuse when he looked up and saw that Wen Yan was obviously not listening, but was studying the heavy rattan in her hand.

The vine was very long, and there were five or six heavy, stone-like objects on it. Wen Yan's fingertips were taut, and her brows were slightly furrowed; she clearly couldn't hold them.

Liang Jinglan immediately took it, "Brother Yuanjun, let me do it!"

Wen Yan looked down at the large hand that was gripping hers, and kindly reminded him, "My lord, you're squeezing my hand."

As if he had touched a hot potato, Liang Jinglan quickly withdrew his hand: "I didn't mean to pinch your hand!"

He was as anxious as an innocent person who had been wrongly accused.

Wen Yan asked in surprise, "If we've already made a pinch, why are we both concerned about these details?"

Wen Yan pulled Liang Jinglan's large hand over and, with his awkwardness, placed the sweet potato in his hand, asking him to hold it up so she could see it.

The more intently she looked at it, the more tense Liang Jinglan's fingers became.

Damn it, why is he still nervous?

My heart is beating abnormally fast.

He glanced at Wen Yan's face.

Why is Brother Yuanjun's face so pale? Did you forget to take your medicine on time again?

Damn it, that medicine is so bitter, who can drink it!

Damn it, why hasn't the famous doctor he found arrived yet?

Is that a tortoise sitting there? It's so slow.

Don't pressure him...

"My Lord, my Lord?"

Wen Yan called to him.

Liang Jinglan woke up with a start, her expression unnatural: "Hmm, ah? What's wrong?"

"You can release it now."

"it is good."

Under Wen Yan's gaze, Liang Jinglan quickly put down the rattan cane. "Brother Yuan, what is this?"

"This is a treasure, a good thing that can eat well and produce a thousand catties per mu."

"What!" Liang Jinglan exclaimed excitedly, too nervous to even react, "Such a wonderful thing exists!"

Wen Yan nodded.

If sweet potatoes can be grown in large quantities, and if people are sent to find the crop a few months in advance, there will be no worry about military pay.

Liang Jinglan was overwhelmed with excitement, feeling that Brother Yuanjun's figure had become even more imposing, and his heart was beating faster.

Oh well, let him be nervous. Brother Yuanjun is so outstanding, what's wrong with him being a little nervous?

Liang Jinglan was overjoyed and took Wen Yan out for drinks on his way back to the mansion.

Drinking alcohol is strictly forbidden during military campaigns, and he would only take a small sip occasionally when he was really craving it.

For some reason, he drank a whole jar tonight, his face flushed, and his sharp eyes softened considerably. He staggered to Wen Yan's side and sat down, his tall frame curling up beside her, clutching her arm, his mind incoherent.

"Brother Yuanjun, I get so nervous when I see you... Youlang said that you only get nervous when you see someone powerful, and you really are amazing!"

He was clearly drunk.

The aroma of alcohol hits you as soon as you smell it; the mellow fragrance of the brewed liquor fills your nostrils.

Having sneaked out for a drink with no one else around, Wen Yan became increasingly bold, her dark gaze growing more unrestrained.

"My lord, tell me, why are you so nervous?"

Her voice was gentle, coaxing him, and he was off guard, revealing his underwear completely.

"My heart races and I get so nervous when I see you..."

"How to speed up, and where to speed up?"

"This...here." Liang Jinglan dazedly grabbed Wen Yan's slender hand and placed it on his chest.

Wen Yan smiled like a fox: "My lord, there's no heartbeat here."

"Is...is that so? Then it was placed in the wrong place, it's this side."

His hands moved before his brain could process it. He placed Wen Yan's hand on his right chest, where it was plump and bouncy. Wen Yan's smile widened, but her voice remained innocent: "There isn't one here either."

"Then, that means it was put in the wrong place again..."

Liang Jinglan managed to move her hand slightly, then her head slumped down and she fell asleep.

Wen Yan smiled and softly called to him, "My lord, my lord, are you asleep? Then I'll feel my own heartbeat."

My heart was pounding like a drum, and for a moment I couldn't tell whose was louder.