Chapter 1922: What Is Professional?

Behind Ye Zhangqing, between Wu Zhong and Huang Chong, a tense atmosphere was quietly spreading.

Although this hostility came only from Huang Chong's side, it cannot be denied that sparks had already begun to fly between the two.

Huang Chong would occasionally steal glances at Wu Zhong, his eyes flashing with envy and helplessness.

However, faced with Huang Chong's occasional hostile glances, Wu Zhong remained expressionless, like a statue, maintaining the posture of eyes watching the nose, nose watching the heart.

It seemed as if, in his eyes, Huang Chong was merely an insignificant presence, incapable of posing any threat to him.

Actually, for those playing the role of servants, to behave so furtively and glance around before their 'master' is itself a major taboo.

But at this moment, Huang Chong was clearly blinded by jealousy, completely disregarding these rules.

Wu Zhong, however, fully understood his position at this time, knowing that only by staying within his bounds could he maintain his footing long-term.

As for Ye Zhangqing, he was still unaware of the invisible conflict smoldering behind him.

Upon hearing Wu Zhong's words, he turned his head helplessly and spoke softly.

"There's really no need to do this."

But Wu Zhong responded with a firm expression.

"No, please, Shī xiōng, definitely give me this opportunity."

Seeing Wu Zhong so resolute, Ye Zhangqing knew further persuasion would be futile; he sighed and let him go.

Thus, in the back-and-forth dialogue between the two, the most tense person was none other than Huang Chong.

He clenched his fists tightly, a fine sweat even appearing on his forehead, as he secretly pondered what might happen next.

Look at this guy, from start to finish his face bore a solemn expression, while inwardly he lamented bitterly.

Who would have thought that I would so carelessly provoke such a formidable enemy? It's truly unexpected.

What's worse, Ye Zhangqing now seemed to tacitly accept Wu Zhong's presence.

This really left Huang Chong feeling suffocated, his inner anguish impossible to voice.

You know, even if he had ideas, he had no right to make decisions for Ye Zhangqing.

And look at Wu Zhong—he's nothing but a single-minded obsessive, wholeheartedly trying to ingratiate himself with Ye Zhangqing.

Ye Zhangqing, seeing this, was also utterly helpless; he lifted his tea cup and took a light sip of fragrant tea, trying to calm his mood.

However, just as he set the cup back on the table, before Ye Zhangqing could speak, Wu Zhong shifted slightly, moving like a ghost, reached out and lightly picked up the teapot, steadily filling Ye Zhangqing's cup.

Moreover, while holding the teapot for just a moment, he skillfully used his own Línglì to heat the tea to the ideal drinking temperature.

After this seamless series of motions, even Ye Zhangqing, well-versed as he was, couldn't help but blink in surprise, blurting out involuntarily.

"Thank you."

Upon hearing that, Wu Zhong hurriedly replied with a beaming smile.

"Shī xiōng, you're being too polite; having the chance to serve you is a blessing I've cultivated over several lifetimes."

"En???"

Hearing this, Ye Zhangqing's facial muscles twitched violently, his mouth corner uncontrollably spasming, as if struck by an invisible bolt of lightning.

For a moment, he couldn't find a single suitable word to reply; his throat felt as if gripped by an invisible hand, leaving him helplessly silent, swallowing the words that had risen to his lips.

"What a fellow."

Ye Zhangqing silently marveled.

"Could this be the legendary silver tongue of a sycophant? Every sentence is so unexpected, like a celestial immortal flying from beyond the heavens, catching one completely off guard, with zero mental preparation."

Wu Zhong steadily held the teapot, slowly stepping back until he returned to his original position before stopping.

Immediately after, he quickly adjusted his posture, once again assuming a deeply respectful, downcast demeanor—body slightly forward, hands naturally hanging at his trouser seams, face wearing a fawning, obsequious smile, eyes ever lowered, daring not to glance sideways even for a moment, like a loyal statue, seemingly always waiting for the 'master' before him to issue the next command or new instruction.

This seamless series of motions, done in one fluid motion, not only left Ye Zhangqing stunned, but even Huang Chong standing nearby was completely dumbfounded.

You know, when Huang Chong originally served Ye Zhangqing, he never imagined there existed such a complex and intricate set of etiquette and rules.

Where did this guy learn these tricks? What's even more unbelievable is that, seeing his practiced bearing and standardized movements, they are far more professional than the attendants specially trained in the Huang clan itself.

"Uh-oh, this is going to be a big problem."

Huang Chong inwardly bitterly lamented, a fine layer of sweat unknowingly seeping onto his forehead.

Originally, just Wu Zhong's esteemed status as Young City Lord and young master of the Wu family already imposed great pressure on him.

Now, adding this seemingly perfect service skill, isn't it putting him at an absolute disadvantage in the competition?

Thinking of this, Huang Chong felt his vision darken, his heart heavy as if a thousand-jin stone weighed upon it.

You know, if purely comparing status and position, even if Huang Chong rode a thousand-li horse to chase after them, he would likely still be unable to catch up.

Leaving aside that Huang Chong is merely one of many collateral branches of the Huang family, even if he transformed into the legitimate young master of the Huang clan, standing before Wu Zhong he would still appear dim and insignificant.

Simply because the Wu family's formidable strength is incomparable to that of the Huang family.

Thus, the value and weight embodied by the two families' young masters naturally differ as greatly as heaven and earth.

Such a chasm-like disparity in status and position caused Huang Chong to feel a deep sense of helplessness welling up inside, as if no matter how hard he tried, he could never cross this enormous gulf, only able to gaze far off at that lofty, unattainable figure and sigh in silence.

At this very moment, as Huang Chong personally witnessed the other party display that flawlessly familiar, exquisitely professional technique, his heart instantly felt as if plunging into a bottomless abyss, sinking straight down.

What more is there to compare? Faced with such astonishing skill, Huang Chong felt he was nothing short of a total failure.

Looking at Wu Zhong's side, after completing this series of actions with ease, he showed not a trace of unusual expression, as if this were merely everyday routine for him.

Back then, when he followed the family's experienced old steward in diligent study, these techniques were the very first lesson.

If he couldn't even master such minor tricks, how could he possibly be worthy of pursuing the goddess of his heart?

Wu Zhong's mood was calm, like an ancient well without ripples; Huang Chong's heart was like dead ashes, filled with despair.

Ye Zhangqing ahead, unaware of this, idle and with nothing to do, had already decided to take out his Tǎng yǐ, just as he used to sunbathe in the Yuàn zhōng.