The lights throughout the city mirrored the stars, and someone tended the lights in the Library Pavilion as well.
At night, with the assorted visitors gone, Li Hongjiu let himself go too. He sat on the floor against a bookshelf, a book in one hand and the other resting on a wine jar, occasionally lifting it for a hearty swig. Life was good.
Ever since he had advised Dong Liangyu that day, the Red-Clad Woman had kept him supplied with all the wine he wanted. Not that he had lacked any before.
Footsteps approached. Dong Liangying had arrived carrying a tray with a late-night meal her eldest sister had made.
Their father had instructed his eldest daughter to cook it and his youngest to deliver it to her master, insisting that she do so every night.
By now, the fact that the second daughter, Dong Liangyu, could cultivate was no longer a secret within the family. If even the Red-Clad Woman and Fu Que had been astonished, how could this family not regard Li Hongjiu as a heavenly marvel?
They had discovered that this supposed foremost figure of the Cultivation World's younger generation truly was extraordinary.
Such immense kindness naturally made them all the more respectful.
How could they fail to offer a token of their gratitude while Mr. Li read by lamplight at night?
Of course, they could not bring food only for Li Hongjiu. There was someone in the Library Pavilion whose fame surpassed even his.
Thus, Sword Saint Fu Que also benefited from Li Hongjiu's good fortune. But Fu Que possessed an unshakable resolve and had long since shed his appetite for food. Accustomed to fasting, he politely declined every time.
Dong Liangying knelt on the floor, set down the tray, arranged the bowl and chopsticks for