The Lin family manor was still brightly lit tonight, yet it was exceptionally quiet.
Or rather, tonight, the entire Luojing City and its vicinity spanning thousands of miles were exceptionally quiet.
Because everyone knew that change was coming.
It was a night of dark skies and high winds.
Zhao Rong and Lin Wenruo didn't bring anyone else with them.
The two rode horses, leaving Lanxi and heading towards Luojing.
One didn't ask the destination, and the other didn't say.
"When will we leave?"
"The morning after next."
They rode side by side, the moonlight faint and the night hazy, making it difficult to see each other's faces. Their voices were somewhat distorted by the oncoming wind.
After that, they were silent for a while.
Suddenly, a slightly hoarse voice mixed with the evening breeze reached them.
"Thank you."
In the darkness, the young Confucian scholar smiled, looking at the city of Luojing lit up with countless lights, and said nothing.