Tang Zhiwu felt as if she were sitting on pins and needles, because while waiting for the food to cook, she noticed at least five men across from her secretly glancing her way.
The feeling of being constantly scrutinized was extremely unpleasant. Embarrassed, she picked up her phone and kept swiping through the home screen, pretending to be thoroughly engrossed in it.
Only she knew that this damned phone had been bought less than a few hours ago, and aside from a lonely WeChat icon, there was nothing else on it.
Her phone vibrated again—that un-deletable stranger had sent another message.
Tang Zhiwu stared at the default gray-and-white WeChat profile picture, her beautiful eyes flickering with surprise, her brows slightly furrowed.
She hadn’t expected that even after she’d cursed at him like that, this person hadn’t proactively deleted her. Instead, he had replied.
She opened the chat window.
123456: “My father passed away long ago. He is no longer in this world.”
For the first time, Tang Zhiwu, the online troll, felt a deep sense of guilt after reading this short sentence.
She was somewhat at a loss, never imagining that her casual remark would directly touch on the other person’s pain.
The anxious-looking girl glanced around, clutching her phone tightly. After thinking for a while, she finally typed a reply.
Tie Jun Sister: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know your father had passed away… I just have a bit of a short temper. Please don’t take it to heart (╥﹏╥).”
Zhang Cheng, seated at the head of the table, had been observing Tang Zhiwu’s actions from the start, and her anxious expression naturally caught his eye.
Seeing her send the message and then look troubled, Zhang Cheng couldn’t help but ask with concern, “Tang Zhiwu, are you dealing with something difficult? You don’t seem to be doing well.”
Suddenly addressed, Tang Zhiwu looked up in confusion. The gazes of everyone at the table, men and women alike, once again converged on her.
“What’s wrong?” Ke Jiuyyao poured her a drink and handed it over, also asking.
“It’s nothing, nothing.” Tang Zhiwu waved her hand, shaking her phone in the air with a relaxed expression. “My advisor just sent some materials, and the topic is a bit tricky. Everyone, don’t mind me—just enjoy yourselves.”
With a light chuckle, Tang Zhiwu’s explanation restored the lively atmosphere.
Just then, the food was ready. The male college students were quite gentlemanly, using serving chopsticks to continuously transfer cooked items from the pot into the girls’ bowls.
The mixer was proving effective. Ke Jiuyyao had already noticed several pairs of men and women exchanging flirtatious glances, with potential for further development.
She placed a serving of food into Tang Zhiwu’s bowl and, seeing her biting her finger while staring at her phone, couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
When would this fool finally catch on?
Without disturbing her, Ke Jiuyyao quietly began eating.
The anxiously waiting Tang Zhiwu finally received a reply.
123456: “So, you are the messenger sent by my father, coming from hell.”
This sentence gave Tang Zhiwu a deeper understanding of the man on the other end.
He might be an otaku or a Christian believer.
His seemingly naive demeanor made Tang Zhiwu feel like she was truly a terrible person, deepening her disgust for her own inappropriate words. She replied honestly.
Tie Jun Sister: [Uh… no, I’m just an ordinary person. I don’t know how I added you. If you feel I’m bothering you, you can try deleting me. I can’t perform this operation on my end.]
Sitting at his desk, staring at the words on the paper, Xu Ge—the formidable Commander of the Imperial Guards who commanded awe throughout the Wei Kingdom—finally understood the feeling of those struggling students in the Imperial Academy scratching their heads in frustration.
How was his current situation any different from those students who spent their days idly joking around?
He could understand the first few messages Tang Zhiwu had sent, but this long string of text had completely baffled him.
He couldn’t grasp the meaning she was trying to convey at all.
His hand holding the brush remained suspended for a long time, unable to lower it. The ink clinging to the bristles dripped, instantly leaving a blotch of ink on the pristine white paper.
After carefully reading it over and over again, Xu Ge gleaned one piece of information from it.
This person was not a ghost or spirit, but a commoner.
The side of his stern profile was gilded by the firelight, his tall nose casting a deep shadow. His narrow, cold eyes shifted slightly.
After pondering for a moment, he finally set brush to paper again.
123456: [Why are you inside? Was it Emperor Wei who imprisoned you, or the late Emperor Shunqing?]
Soon, another sheet of paper materialized on the jade pendant.
Tie Jun Sister: [What Emperor Wei? Late Emperor Shunqing? The First Year of Jiayi? Are you a history professor?]
Having just taken a bite of her food, Tang Zhiwu immediately concluded upon seeing these terms that this person must be a history professor or a scholar specializing in this field.
The only possibility was that he had become so obsessed that he had immersed himself in the history of the First Year of Jiayi.
Tang Zhiwu put down her chopsticks, shook her head, and tentatively replied.
On the chat interface, his name suddenly changed to “The other party is typing…”
Tang Zhiwu, waiting for his reply, stared at this line for a while until he finally sent a message.
123456: [No]
Thinking the conversation was about to end, Tang Zhiwu quickly tapped out a few words and sent them. Then, she muted her phone, tossed it into her bag, and happily began to enjoy her meal.
Xu Manor was cold. Xu Ge preferred quiet, so at night, the vast estate housed only him and Ashu.
The servants who swept, cleaned, and performed miscellaneous tasks only appeared in the courtyard during the day, when Xu Ge was away on missions.
The lights in Frost Chill Pavilion were the brightest, the flames flickering incessantly, making the entire space feel somewhat hazy.
The man picked up the newly appeared paper and slowly stood up. He stepped away from the desk and walked toward the wooden window on the right.
His slender hand pushed open the ebony window carved with intricate patterns. The cool breeze of early spring swept in, and his ink-black hair, usually tied up all day, now cascaded loosely, lifted by the wind.
Xu Ge closed his eyes, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking at that moment.
Only, in this state, much of his usual ferocity was gone, replaced by an unusual, almost impossible gentleness that seemed completely out of character for him.
After a long while, his narrow, cold eyelashes gradually parted.
If not for the moonlight, those pitch-black eyes, like spilled ink, would have long been hidden in the night.
He raised his hand, lifting the paper high until it completely blocked the moonlight.
Moonlight pierced through the thin paper, illuminating that line of text and casting it into his sharp eyes.
Tie Jun Sister: 【Alright, but you still need to balance work and rest! There are so many wonderful things in the modern world—don’t confine yourself solely to history. I have something to attend to, so I’ll stop here for now. Bye!】
Xu Ge raised his hand and touched this string of black, emotionless, square-shaped characters. His crimson lips parted slightly as he murmured softly,
“Modern? What dynasty is this?”