What was he writing?
Su Qingdai had thought that Zhao Rong was about to again use the rouge from her lips for some disgraceful act; however, to her surprise, he suddenly became serious.
Yes, as he used the finger that had stolen her rouge to write on her sleeve, all expressions on his suddenly gaunt face converged, and his demeanor transformed entirely, as if it were an instinct honed over many years. Once he bowed his head to write, he became completely engrossed.
He calmed down completely.
The atmosphere on the scene also fell into a brief silence.
Su Qingdai bit her lip, observing the intensely focused profile of this young Confucian Scholar as he wrote. His nose was prominent, his eyes fixedly staring at her sleeve, unwavering. There wasn't a trace of his previous frivolous demeanor or his invasive gaze.
