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Chapter 17.1 - The Moon Shines Upon Home (1)

Little detail by little detail. All the things he did, like droplets, were slowly permeating through her life.

Regardless of past or present life, Zhousheng Chen had never changed. He never voiced his feelings and spoke not about his love, but he was still able to let her know that he cared for and cherished her.

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For the next several days, Zhousheng Chen was, as always, busy. The day before Grandmother's birthday, he had a little more leisure time and returned to their courtyard wing. But before he could even change his clothing, Shi Yi seemed to suddenly remember something and asked him, "Are you tired?"

"Not very tired."

"Let's go to the library tower, would that be okay?"

"The library tower?"

"Mm-hmm." Shi Yi stood up from where she had been sitting on the sofa. "Also... could you ask someone to ready some writing brushes and ink? Not the type where I need to grind the ink stick against the stone[1]. Just a big bucket of prepared ink will do."

Zhousheng Chen was intrigued and soon had instructed people to make the preparations.

They changed and went to the library tower. Nobody normally came to this place, and right now, it was only the two of them there as well. The items Shi Yi had requested had been prepared and placed beside the bookshelves. She walked up, her hand resting on the carved, wooden handrail at the top of the staircase. Peering through the gaps of the three-metre high bookshelves, as if she was mulling over something, she scrutinized the wall on the other side that had calligraphy artwork and traditional Chinese paintings hanging on it.

Zhousheng Chen was in no hurry to disturb her, so he stepped over and from the nearest bookshelf, pulled off a book at random.

As he leafed through the book, he seemed to melt into and become one with the space he was standing in.

Shi Yi's eyes shifted from the wall and the three-metre high shelves onto him. He wore sky-blue colored trousers, a white dress shirt, and a pair of silver, metal-frame glasses, and his suit jacket had been casually draped onto the wooden ladder beside the bookshelf.

It was nearing sundown, and the candles of the lamps in this place had already been lit far beforehand.

Together, the remaining rays of the setting sun outside the window, the bright candlelight, and him seemed like an ink-and-wash painting[2] in her eyes. The background was only a faint color, but then as the painting moved to the outline of his figure, it seemed as if brushstrokes changed from being indistinct to vivid... Shi Yi walked over to him and from behind, slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his back.

He covered her hands with one of his. "Have you figured out how you will write it yet?"

"Mm."

"This library tower is more than a hundred years old already," he smiled, "but you are the first person to ever think about leaving your writing on the walls."

"How did you know I wanted to write on the wall?"

He made no comment in return.

Alright, fine. Her intentions were pretty obvious.

This place, indeed, was spotlessly clean. Even when a painting was removed from the wall, there was no noticeable mark of discoloration left behind from the painting having hung there for a long time. From the brush holder that had been prepared for her ahead of time, she selected a brush. Standing on the third step of a wooden ladder, she one word, one line at a time, wrote out the poem, "Rhapsody of the Imperial Park", that was engrained in her heart. The bucket of ink hung off a corner of the ladder, and now and then, as she adjusted her position, the bucket would also sway lightly.

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