In a carriage that remained steady and unaffected by bumps,
Lin Wenruo sat alone with his fist clenched, his brow furrowed.
What preoccupied his mind was the news from the Hidden Guard that morning. In Luojing City, foreigners had been discreetly inquiring about the minutiae of the past debate on Confucianism, especially concerning the third session of pure conversation.
Moreover, the final spearhead and target were implicitly pointing towards Zhao Rong.
As it stood, they were not openly associated with Emperor Wei of the Langxi Qin clan.
The feathered guards had been watching the former two all along.
Lin Wenruo had figured them out.
As long as they came to Zhongnan Country, they were under his surveillance.
But these people who had suddenly appeared did not belong to the aforementioned groups and had not been within his sight before.
Where on earth did they come from?
He sent people to investigate, but these individuals vanished suddenly, just like slippery loaches.
Lin Wenruo’s brow crinkled in thought, pondering every possibility. Suddenly, he thought of Qin Jianfu, who was presumed dead.
He then shook his head immediately. It shouldn’t be him.
Could Ziyu have other enemies?
Perhaps, only he himself would know...
Lin Wenruo exhaled deeply.
Another peal of spring thunder exploded in the clouds.
The clouds came to a stop, and so did the wind.
The world fell silent.
With the thunder of spring, all creatures were startled.
And after a brief yet long three breaths,
Spring rain began to fall.
Lin Wenruo turned his head slightly, surprised.
His gaze penetrated the curtain of rain, looking towards the direction of Du You City.
He decided to write a letter immediately to send a reminder to someone.
He just wasn’t sure if it would be in time.
The apricot leaf filled with writing in his hand was, without a doubt, picked by Ziyu in late autumn and sent to him.
Lin Wenruo raised his hand to close the window.
Quietness fell within the carriage.
At a certain moment, he suddenly murmured to himself:
"Jingzhe, jing...zhe. All things arise from the shock of thunder, thunder being the startling of hibernating insects... and their scattering."
An autumn breeze began to stir.
Aside from some Immortal Blessed Lands that remained spring-like throughout the seasons,
Du You City was enveloped in a desolate autumn scene.
But as the largest city of Cultivators on the Wangque Continent,
The ceaseless flow of carriages, boats, and throngs of people dispelled some of the desolate autumn mood of Du You City during the daylight.
The deep night sky was filled with the overwhelming autumn atmosphere.
Linlu Academy, located outside of Du You City, was shrouded in the autumn breeze.
Within the north room of Nanxuan Academy’s East Fence Small House,
Zhao Rong had learned a lot about the Vermilion Fruit from Gu Yiwu during the day.
About the ink painting dream he had the night before, he also had some guesses.
Although it was somewhat different from what Gu Yiwu had mentioned...
At the moment, Zhao Rong stood in front of the bed, pinching his chin, his expression contemplative.
So it’s said... he had cut off Han Wenfu’s beard?
Ugh, has this grudge been formed?
It was just eating a fruit.
"Caught wearing a vividly colored hat by a fruit"?
No, that can’t be it.
Maybe he should talk to Han Wenfu later.
His respect for his senior Yu Huaijin, who toiled day and night for Shuaixing Hall, had always been genuine and undiminished.
Heaven is his witness.
Every time he saw Yu Huaijin’s stern face and earnest expression without any smiles, Zhao Rong felt an irresistible urge to draw ’justice’.
He wondered why Han Wenfu liked this tune, and likewise, why he enjoyed learning and drawing ’justice’?
Zhao Rong thought it over carefully, then immediately raised his hand, undressed, and got into bed.
He decided to meet again in the landscape painting dream with that peculiar little girl with horned buns in the strange school, hmm, Yu Huaijin.
Maybe he should talk to her first.
"Hey, Yu Huaijin, someone wants to draw ’justice’ with you... no, wrong, to share a bed."