The night was as dark as ink.
In a room at Nanxuan Academy, the lamps were still burning at the third watch.
Yet, in front of the desk under the lamp, there was no one.
On the bed, someone had again fallen from a water-ink dream, plunging into a dark ocean, swept by illusory tides, ashore the beach of reality.
Zhao Rong opened his eyes, took a long breath, and pondered the dream he had just had with a vacant mind.
During the day, after a 'friendly meeting' with the recently returned Teacher Meng from the Academy.
On his way back from the Academy, Jia Tengying and Fan Yushu both cautiously comforted him.
Although Zhao Rong really wanted to say that he didn't feel that there was anything shameful about being a son-in-law.
Yes, this standard bitter and deep identity that only the protagonists in books had, Zhao Rong had always refrained from boastfully showing off to them, which was already quite commendable.
It was far from making the best of a bad situation.
