Zhao Junyao remained silent.
He picked up pen and paper, scribbling on the rice paper.
In less than half a Shi Chen, the eighty-one squares were filled with numbers.
Xia Ruqing's gaze went from schadenfreude, to suspicion, and finally to shock, within a fraction of a Shi Chen.
"This..."
Xia Ruqing took the paper with an incredulous expression.
She examined it row by row and column by column.
In the end, she still couldn't believe it.
"Emperor!"
"You did this so quickly! Have you seen it before?"
Zhao Junyao tossed the pen aside, a smirk on his lips, as he stood up.
"It's just a trivial skill, not worth mentioning!"
"Wow, the way he tossed the pen was so cool!"
Xia Ruqing's heart was overflowing with admiration; this man's intellect was scary!
Who said ancient men only composed poetry and paintings, and couldn't do arithmetic? That's completely false, isn't it?!
How could you be an emperor without knowing arithmetic?!
"Emperor, you must be tired!"
