The room was small, with a table by the window. Felt covered the tabletop, and the smell of ink hung in the air.
Wang Xiaoliang sat at the table, holding a brush in his right hand and pressing down the paper with his left. He was copying "Free and Easy Wandering" from the Zhuangzi. His brush descended and lifted, writing one character at a time.
Liu Xinyu leaned in a corner, leafing through a book. He read slowly, sometimes lingering over a page for a long time. Fan Qishan sat cross-legged on the other side, his eyes closed, back straight, and breathing long and steady.
No one spoke.
The room had been like this since yesterday afternoon.
Three people, each doing his own thing. As quiet as a temple.
Two knocks sounded at the door.
Liu Xinyu glanced up. Fan Qishan did not move. Wang Xiaoliang's brush paused, then continued until he finished the character. Only then did he look up.
The door opened.
Yang Qingyu came in sideways, carrying neatly folded bedding in her arms. Yi Jiahui followed behind, carrying another stack.
Yang Qingyu stood in the doorway, her gaze meeting Wang Xiaoliang's.
Yang Qingyu looked very unwell. Her usual radiance was gone, and her dull complexion made her look haggard.
Wang Xiaoliang looked at her.
Then he smiled.
It was not a polite smile. He was truly smiling. The corners of his mouth lifted, showing a little of his teeth. Just faintly.
Yang Qingyu froze for a second.
The corners of her mouth moved too.
That face, which had been dull for so long, regained a little color with that touch of warmth. She smiled too.
Yi Jiahui saw it from behind her. The worry that had hung over her for days eased, and the corners of her