The sound of the zither echoed softly in the garden through the dense and lush trees. A voice came from far away. It was Fu Wei who pretended to be stern and scolded: "You are slacking off again so early in the morning. You little boy, I am too old to discipline you, right? You are hiding somewhere to sleep."
The answer was from a young boy's clear voice: "Sir, you are wronged. I was not lazy at all. I was just looking for music sheet for Mr. Wang!"
"Okay, you dare to use Zifeng as an excuse? I want to ask him if this is true!"
Fu Wei, the boy who reviewed his studies, and the boy who played the zither walked into the garden together.
The two little book boys looked no more than eleven or twelve years old. They were thin and small, and stood much shorter than Fu Wei. Seeing Ethan Wang sitting in the pavilion playing the piano, Fu Wei walked up the wooden corridor and entered the pavilion. The two little boys stayed outside and waited, but did not go in.
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