Hello, Mr. Major General

“Take it slow—what you need is real-life practice.” Zhao Liangze nonchalantly changed the subject. “For example, I just told you something isn’t right with the way Brother Huang looks at you. The next time you see him, make a note of the way he looks at you, and compare it with everyone else.”

There were two ways to explain it: in academic terms, this was part of the field of psychology. The books published on this topic would fill an entire library.

In layman’s terms, this was what was commonly referred to as “street smarts”—most people picked it up on their own. Children who were accustomed to watching the body language of the people around them eventually grew up to be shrewd and clever adults, one step ahead of everyone else.

Most of the wealthy, high IQ members of elite society were too inflexible and rigidly educated to be truly “street smart.”

“That makes no sense!” Gu Nianzhi was not convinced. “How am I supposed to measure something like that, if it can’t be quantified?!”

“Which is why I said it won’t be easy. Do you have what it takes to learn?” Zhao Liangze straightened up, a wide grin on his face. “Okay, I’m going back to my room now. What do you want for dinner? Takeout?”

Gu Nianzhi stared at Zhao Liangze for a long moment, uncertain whether to believe him.

The two of them had their dinner. After that, Gu Nianzhi finished unpacking the last of her boxes and went to take a shower.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she saw a missed call from Huo Shaoheng on her phone and hurriedly called him back.

“…Uncle Huo?” As soon as he picked up, Gu Nianzhi launched into a hasty explanation: “We’ve been busy unpacking, we just moved into our new place today. I was in the shower after that, and didn’t hear the phone ring.”

Huo Shaoheng was talking to Gu Nianzhi on his headset. He scrolled through the satellite images of the ocean on his computer as he said indifferently, “Don’t worry about it. I was just calling to ask how you’re settling in. How’s the new place?”

“Not bad, but it’s warmer here than in Boston.” Gu Nianzhi wiped the sweat from her brow. “Maybe I should turn up the AC.”

“Don’t overdo it.” Huo Shaoheng had come across an unusual satellite image, and was now too preoccupied with it to keep up the conversation. He decided to end the phone call. “Stay on your toes once you start working in Congress. Is there anything else? If there isn’t, I’m going to hang up now.”

Gu Nianzhi quickly said, “Wait! Don’t hang up!”

“Is there something else?” Huo Shaoheng moved his mouse cursor over the ocean map, pulling up strings of data. His brow furrowed.

Gu Nianzhi recalled what Zhao Liangze had just told her, and immediately repeated it to Huo Shaoheng—every single word of it. “…Uncle Huo, I heard about the Special Ops training. The soldiers have to learn how to tell what someone is really after, and also how to react when someone tries to seduce them. They’re also taught how to tell whether someone is truly interested in them, or just acting a part, and also how to gain the confidence of their target during a mission. Is that true? I want to learn all that, too…”

Huo Shaoheng was momentarily stunned. He gathered his scattered attention to focus on what he was hearing over his headset. “What did you just say? Repeat all that to me, again.”

Gu Nianzhi repeated herself. She insisted, “I want to learn all that. I think I’m terrible at reading people.”

Huo Shaoheng’s expression had darkened. He said stiffly, “Who’s been feeding you all this nonsense? We’re soldiers, part of the regular army, not some secret spy agency—why would we learn all that crap?”

Zhao Liangze had actually been telling the truth: those were compulsory training modules for the Special Ops soldiers. Gu Nianzhi was not a member of the Special Operations Forces, however, and telling her about these training modules amounted to a security breach.

“Oh? So Brother Ze lied to me.” Gu Nianzhi let out a long sigh of relief. She felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “He was so convincing, he had me hook, line, and sinker. He made me sound like I was completely clueless, and kept telling me to be ‘smarter’—isn’t that just another way of telling me I’m naive? Am I really that stupid?”

She did not know it herself, but she sounded like she was coyly fishing for a compliment.

Huo Shaoheng smiled slightly. He moved his mouse cursor over to the program to contact Zhao Liangze, and initiated a connection with a light tap of his finger. In the meantime, he said casually: “Don’t listen to Little Ze’s nonsense. You’re as clever and shrewd as they come.”

Gu Nianzhi: “…”

After a moment, she asked weakly, “Uncle Huo, is that supposed to be a compliment?”

In Gu Nianzhi’s humble opinion, she was neither too naïve nor too calculating—she was intelligent, charming, beautiful, with just the right amount of street smarts! (*^_^*)

But not everyone shared her opinion, it seemed.