When Lu Xiaoying and Gong Qing's figures disappeared at the door, the heavy wooden door was gently closed.
In this quaint and elegant study, only three people remained.
For a moment, the room was truly silent, with only the faint sound of birds chirping from outside the window.
Huang Tangshi personally picked up the teapot and poured a cup of clear tea for Lu Xuan, the misty steam rising between them.
Mr. Huang looked at Lu Xuan, the solemn demeanor he had shown in front of others earlier had been put away.
What was left in his eyes was pure emotion of reuniting with an old friend, and an enduring, deep-seated envy.
"Mr. Xuan," he spoke again, his voice more relaxed and sincere than before, "now there's no one else here."
"Your energy... I'm truly envious, looking at you is like recalling those days we stood shoulder to shoulder on the snowy plains, it seems like it was just yesterday."
To say he's not envious would be self-deception.
