At night, snow once again blanketed the Capital City. The heavens sealed, the earth closed, and all was silent.
Inside the room, the embers of the red holly coal burned brightly. A figure clad in violet sat leisurely on a chair draped in tiger skin, his cold, sharp features softened by the flicker of the fire.
Meng Qianqian turned over, her eyes landing on the man facing her. His demeanor was as calm as a still, unruffled pool.
She slowly sat up.
Lu Yuan flipped through the book in his hand. "Dreadful writing. If I ever find out which examinee penned this, I'll make sure he never sets a foot inside the Imperial Examination Hall."
That the Grand Commander even knows of this?
Fortunately, the author used an alias. Otherwise, all his scholarly talent would be wasted, doomed to misery just for writing some melodramatic drivel out of necessity.
Meng Qianqian asked, "Where's Zhaozhao?"
"Waaah!"
