"Is there anything else?" Atbolde gazed at him and asked once more.
Perhaps it was because it was nearing noon, or answering questions had become exhausting.
Colin always felt that Atbolde's tone of voice had slowed down even more, and that tired-looking, creased old face seemed to show a hint of weariness.
"No, Mentor Atbolde."
Colin bowed slightly, pondered seriously for a moment, and then replied.
"Um."
On the lounge chair, Atbolde barely audibly uttered a syllable from his nostrils, then closed his eyes and leaned back, continuing,
"If there are other questions, you can come to me in the early morning."
"Now, if there's nothing else, you may leave first."
His tone was calm, but the urge was unmistakable.
"Yes, Mentor Atelbolde!"
Colin felt a chill in his heart and hurriedly bid Atbolde farewell, "Then I'll go now."
Before turning around, he glanced slightly upward at the wooden clock on the wall nearby.
