บท 57: Chapter 49 Farewell Gift

The room was pitch black except for the moonlight streaming through the window.

The person returning at night pushed open the door and walked toward the desk in the dark room.

A candle suddenly lit up, its bright yellow flame carving out a world of its own.

Beneath the lamp, the night returnee didn't pause to think but started writing immediately, the words flowing in one go.

The brush stopped, the verse completed, the lamp extinguished.

The room filled with the breeze.

————

At dawn, the sun rose.

Zhao Rong got up early, finished his morning exercise and lessons, and after eating the breakfast served by the servants, he packed up his things, slung his bookcase on his back, secured his scholar sword at his waist, and strode out the door.

Just as he stepped over the threshold, he halted, glanced at the desk inside the room, then turned his head and left.