The evening breeze drifted slowly, soft and gentle.
Wen Qingye sat on a stone chair, gazing at the moonlight before him. He remained motionless, letting time slip by.
'What are Zhang Xiaoyun and Gao Yuerou doing right now? And where is Taiyi Pavilion?' Staring at the bright, clear moonlight, Wen Qingye's thoughts began to wander.
At that moment, Zhao Hao, carrying a jar of wine, walked over to Zhao Xia, who had been standing nearby for some time. "Sis, aren't you going to go say a few words to Brother Wen?"
Zhao Xia gazed at Wen Qingye's back and said faintly, "He doesn't want to talk right now. He probably just wants to be left alone."
Zhao Hao raised an eyebrow and sighed, then handed the wine jar to Zhao Xia. "Then go have a few drinks with him. Drown your sorrows in wine, as they say."
