Gongsun Yu pushed open the door and entered, greeted by a scene of bustling activity.
Several books lay open across the table, while discarded sheets of messy drafts littered the floor beneath it.
The man bent over his desk, writing rapidly. Row after row of beautiful regular script danced across the Jiajiang paper, looking like tiny elves that had come to life.
Gongsun Yu stood at the doorway for a while. When she realized her husband, busy with government affairs, had not been roused by her arrival, she spoke first. "Qingming, are you busy?"
Lu Qingming's wrist paused. He raised his head and glanced at his wife. "Xiao Yu, what brings you here? Go back and rest. I still have some work to finish. Once I'm done, I'll go back and keep you company. The empire is going through troubled times, and the borderlands need to remain stable. We can't afford the slightest slackening. Even if I return to the imperial capital, I can't put aside the affairs of the province. There are simply too many miscellaneous matters. I've wronged you."
Gongsun Yu not only did not leave, but turned around and closed the study door. "Qingming, I want to say a few things to you."
"Fine. You can say as many things as you like. Go back first, and I'll return to our room to keep you company in a moment—"
"I want to say them now—in your study." Gongsun Yu looked at her husband with gentle eyes, but her attitude was utterly resolute.
Lu Qingming had no choice but to set down the brush in his hand. His handsome features carried a smile. The winds and sands of the southwest had creased his skin, but they could not blow away the spirit of a martial artist from him.