The study room, at some point, had fallen into silence.
In the corner, the exquisite Bo Shan Burner had no more wisps of smoke rising from its mouth.
The last lingering notes of ambergris had completely dissipated into the air.
The sunlight slanted through the window, falling right on the piece of Xuan paper still unfurled on the desk.
The golden glint made the hidden character "藏" increasingly conspicuous.
Shi Chengyi did not speak; he just stood at the window with his hands behind his back, quietly gazing at the courtyard.
His face revealed no expression, but Wei Zheng sitting on the sofa could feel an invisible aura emanating from his teacher, as solid as a mountain.
"The Guangwu Gate shooting..."
Shi Chengyi silently recited in his heart, beneath a calm surface, a torrent already surged.
To ordinary people, these six words might just be a segment of lead type in a history textbook, a significant event that changed the country's course.
