The distance between people could be close or far, but not so far that it could not be crossed. As long as they had a shared topic, even two complete strangers could have a pleasant conversation. Just like Solam's current situation.
At first, Solam had felt that he had nothing in common with the old man. After all, the other man was clearly a learned scholar, while Solam—although he did not consider himself an ignorant fool—was still no match for him overall.
The old man regarded knowledge as faith, while Solam viewed knowledge more pragmatically. Simply put, Solam treated those things as tools. They were on entirely different levels and could not be compared, so Solam had not been interested in chatting with the old man.
In the end, their conversation unexpectedly began with Colson. The two of them started discussing Colson's bald head. When people had no particular purpose, the scope of conversation became extremely broad. They could talk about anything—far-flung places, strange tales, bizarre events, gossip, and rumors.
Moreover, one of them had seen and experienced much. Though he had been around for a long time, he had gone through more things than most people would in a lifetime, and every one of them had been incredibly bizarre. The other was profoundly knowledgeable and widely read, able to casually bring up all manner of secrets and obscure tales.
Thus, the more they talked, the happier they became, and the more they hit it off. By the end, they had simply sat on the little cart, secretly pulled out cigars, and chatted as they smoked.
Smoking was not allowed in the Central Tower, of course. That was obvious—what library would permit smoking? So although Solam's craving had surfaced as they talked, his basic manners remained intact. He habitually took