Pei Wanmu stared at her delicate face for a long while, without speaking.
Once he confirmed she was sound asleep.
He quietly left the room, carefully closing the door.
Returning to his own room, his slender fingers picked up an ink stick, and began to grind the ink in a calm and measured manner, the stick drawing circles vertically on the stone ink slab as the black ink spread forth.
He casually took a top-quality purple Xiang wolf hair brush from the brush holder, dipped it in the ink, and smoothed it out.
He picked up the brush to write on a small slip of paper: Need your help, meet at the Imperial College. Mu!
These simple ten words, with strokes like iron and silver hooks, were written with grace and fluidity, as if clouds and flowing water, as if seeing the person in writing.
He rolled the paper and placed it in a small bamboo tube.
Before long, a gray hawk flew out from Qingqiu Courtyard.
The hawk soared into the sky~
The paper slip, was sent out!
