In the still of the night, a tiny lamp burned in the camp.
The dim yellow light inside the tent traced the silhouette of someone holding a book against the canvas, looking for all the world like a diligent scholar studying by lamplight.
Behind the silhouette lay a round ball of fluff, head tilted and little claws pointing skyward, so sound asleep that life and death meant nothing to it.
Ye Jingtang sat on the bedding with a book in his left hand, his right hand resting on his right knee and holding a small flask of wine. His pose resembled Lord Guan reading the Spring and Autumn Annals beneath the moon.
Whenever he reached an engrossing passage, he took a sip of wine. So absorbed that he nearly forgot himself, he had no idea how long he had been reading.
Staying up late reading miscellaneous books hardly suited a master's bearing, but it was truly rare to encounter books one could lose oneself in, remember for a lifetime, and savor again and again. Once he picked one up, he really could not put it down before finishing.
Fortunately, the market bookstall was quite conscientious. The books he had bought were complete, finely bound editions, with beginnings and endings and no missing chapters or pages. Otherwise, if the story broke off halfway through, Ye Jingtang might well have stormed over to the author's home overnight, borrowed a whetstone, and sharpened the Chi Dragon Blade right in front of him.
If nothing interrupted him, by the time Ye Jingtang came back to himself, dawn would already have been breaking, with roosters crowing and dogs barking outside.
Unfortunately, just as Ye Jingtang reached an engrossing passage, faint footsteps suddenly sounded outside.
Tap, tap~
Ye Jingtang's ears twitched. Without looking up, he merely