"Seal the furnace, seal the furnace!"
Su Mu methodically tidied up the desk after a day of transcription, arranging the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone in an orderly manner.
Zhao Ju watched everything with satisfaction.
"Master Zhao, this boy takes his leave."
Zhao Ju nodded slightly, his hand pausing with the Inscription Pen. As he watched the figure leaving the forging room, he suddenly recalled that he had been entirely focused on inscribing a long sword recently.
He had not checked Su Mu's transcription for some days. Thinking of this, Zhao Ju first washed his hands clean, then approached the desk.
When leaving, Su Mu had covered the transcribed manuscript with a piece of white paper. Seeing this sheet, Zhao Ju couldn't help but recall the past, sighing inwardly as he took a glance and froze on the spot.
His first thought was the same as a pharmacist's.
Could it be someone else?
