This Case Carries the Maximum Sentence for Hooliganism

Half a day earlier.

That morning, Shen Xingye left home in high spirits and feeling refreshed, carrying his earth-shattering masterpiece and wearing the agreed-upon yellow clothes, ready to meet his pen pal.

At nine in the morning, Shen Xingye arrived before the Confucian Temple.

As someone who considered himself a man of letters, Shen Xingye bowed from afar toward Confucius, silently praying that the Most Holy Teacher would bless him with an inexhaustible flow of inspiration.

After bowing, Shen Xingye scanned the area for his target. People streamed back and forth before the Confucian Temple, but in this era, most people wore dark, plain colors. Bright yellow clothes ought to have been conspicuous.

Yet Shen Xingye looked left and right without spotting anyone else dressed in bright yellow.

"Strange, where are they?" Shen Xingye could not help wondering. "Come to think of it, why did we arrange to meet at the Confucian Temple? There are so many people here."

Just then, someone approached from behind Shen Xingye and said in a low voice, "Are you 'Night'?"

Hm?

My pen pal found me?

Shen Xingye spun around with a start, wanting to see what his pen pal looked like. But the instant he saw her, his mouth fell open in shock, because standing behind him was unmistakably a girl. She wore round glasses as thick as the bottom of a liquor bottle. Her long fringe and messy hair concealed most of her face, and there even seemed to be paint stains on her rustic clothes.

That unkempt appearance truly carried the air of an artist.

But—a girl?

My pen pal is a girl?

While Shen Xingye was still dumbfounded, the girl spoke again, her voice somewhat stiff. "Answer me. Are you the person who has been writing me letters under the