You looked toward the long table. The sheets laid upon it were all costly Clear Heart Hall Paper from Bianjing, a specialty of Jiangnan Circuit.
How could an ordinary household dare hope for such a thing? The finished paper was famed as "smooth as spring ice, dense as silkworm cocoons."
You had never used such paper before.
Zhou Yun'er lowered her head to grind the ink, then slowly raised it and happened to see you in profile, resting your chin on one hand in faint contemplation. Your nose bridge was high, your jawline sharply defined, and your long black hair fell over your shoulders.
Thoughtfulness filled your eyes, lending you an air of singular elegance.
It was not as though Zhou Yun'er had never seen men with handsome features, yet the temperament you gave off was utterly different.
The Confucian School often said: "With literature hidden in one's breast, one is humble as a valley; with poetry and books in one's belly, one's bearing shines forth of itself."
You glanced sideways, noticed Zhou Yun'er's gaze, and gave her a gentle smile.
"Thank you, Miss Yun'er."
Zhou Yun'er was known for her bold speech, yet she found herself tongue-tied for a moment. She could only reply in a voice as fine as a drifting thread, "You are too courteous, Young Master Guan."
Witnessing this scene, Jia Yu was instantly consumed by anger. Thinking back to earlier, Zhou Yun'er had not shown such tender affection. Even as the others took turns offering her wine, she had not touched a single drop.
Much less ground ink for anyone.
Yet now, she was being so attentive toward that Xie Guan. Jia Yu could not help but feel deeply dissatisfied.
He secretly thought, That Xie Guan is nothing but a pretty boy with an empty