In the blink of an eye, two months passed.
Yu Yunwei had to wake up early every day. Shortly after dawn, she would be sitting punctually in the courtyard, quietly listening to Xiao Mo's lecture.
Listening to Xiao Mo drone on with all his classical prose and poetry made Yu Yunwei's head ache more and more.
But Yu Yunwei had no way out of it; she could only brace herself and endure the classes.
As evening approached, Xiao Mo would also instruct Yu Yunwei in the etiquette of the Confucian School, even making her practice her deportment in walking, standing, and sitting properly.
'What's the use of practicing all this for me, a disciple of the Demon Sect?'
But because Xiao Mo demanded it, and since she couldn't beat him, she had no choice but to obey.
Gradually, however, Yu Yunwei started to figure out where Xiao Mo drew the line.
She had never seen the guy smile. He seemed cold as ice and would even flash killing intent at her from time to time.
