Chao Lun Hui had a beautiful dream.
Nobody was chasing him.
No ancient artefact was calling his name, no mysterious gate was ordering him to enter, and Shen Yan Ting had apparently forgotten that additional sword practice existed.
Chao Lun Hui slept beneath a warm blanket while an endless table of roasted duck waited nearby, untouched by Gu Zhen.
It was peaceful.
Cultivation stories usually treated peace as a temporary clerical error, but Chao Lun Hui was willing to accept the mistake.
Reality arrived carrying a pillow.
Gu Zhen : “Wake up!”
The pillow struck him directly in the face.
Chao Lun Hui sat upright so quickly that the blanket tangled around Luo Yanhe’s legs and nearly dragged him from the bed.
Luo Yanhe : “Assassin!”
Gu Zhen stood beside the bed holding another pillow, already prepared for a second attack.
His light-brown eyes were bright with satisfaction, and his shoulder-length curls looked as though he had fought the morning wind and lost.
Gu Zhen : “No.”
Chao Lun Hui pulled the first pillow away from his face and narrowed his silver-grey eyes.
Luo Yanhe : “Senior enjoys this.”
Gu Zhen answered without shame.
Gu Zhen : “Very much.”
The honesty was offensive.
In Chao Lun Hui’s modern life, an alarm could be silenced.
A locked door could discourage visitors.
Neither defence appeared effective against a spear cultivator who considered assault by bedding a reasonable expression of friendship.
Chao Lun Hui looked towards the window.
Dawn had barely begun colouring the sky.
Luo Yanhe : “Why is Senior here?”
Gu Zhen : “Master Shen is waiting.”
Chao Lun Hui’s body moved before his thoughts finished protesting.
One foot reached the floor, his back straightened, and his attention sharpened at Shen Yan Ting’s title.
Gu Zhen saw all of it.
Gu Zhen : “You moved quickly again.”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple remembered the training.”
Gu Zhen : “Of course.”
Luo Yanhe threw the pillow back at him.
The inn courtyard was still blue with early morning shadow when Chao Lun Hui arrived.
Shen Yan Ting stood beside the practice platform in immaculate white robes, sword sheathed at his side, looking far too composed for a man who had ordered another person to exercise before breakfast.
Three hundred strikes.
Chao Lun Hui had hoped the number might become less unreasonable after sleep.
It had not.
Shen Yan Ting : “You are late.”
Luo Yanhe : “Senior Gu attacked this disciple.”
Gu Zhen entered behind him carrying a breakfast basket.
Gu Zhen : “This senior supported discipline.”
Luo Yanhe : “With a pillow.”
Gu Zhen : “A gentle weapon.”
Shen Yan Ting looked towards the basket.
Shen Yan Ting : “Put it down.”
Gu Zhen obeyed, although he chose a place close enough to monitor the contents.
Chao Lun Hui drew his sword.
The weapon settled into his hand with the familiarity of an object he had carried for years, although Chao Lun Hui could not remember learning its weight.
That contradiction had stopped surprising him every time.
It had not stopped mattering.
Shen Yan Ting : “Begin.”
The first twenty strikes came easily.
Luo Yanhe’s body understood the form.
His shoulders aligned, his wrist turned, and spiritual energy travelled down the blade in a clean current.
The movement felt less like copying instructions and more like returning to the middle of a sentence.
At the twenty-first strike, Chao Lun Hui tried to correct the angle consciously.
The blade shifted too far.
Shen Yan Ting : “Again.”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple has completed twenty-one.”
Shen Yan Ting : “You have completed twenty.”
Luo Yanhe : “The sword moved.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Incorrectly.”
The cultivation world had invented a remarkable system in which mistakes still exhausted the body but did not count towards completion.
Chao Lun Hui resumed.
By the hundredth strike, his arms had warmed.
By the hundred and eightieth, the muscles across Luo Yanhe’s broad shoulders had begun to ache.
Shen Yan Ting corrected his stance three times, his grip twice and the direction of his spiritual circulation once.
Each correction was technically justified, which made complaining less effective.
Gu Zhen sat beside the breakfast basket and watched with the attentive expression of someone waiting for a performance to end so he could commit theft.
At two hundred and forty, his hand moved towards a steamed bun.
Luo Yanhe : “Do not.”
Gu Zhen froze.
Gu Zhen : “Your eyes were closed.”
Luo Yanhe completed another strike.
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple knows Senior’s habits.”
Gu Zhen : “That is friendship.”
Luo Yanhe : “That is criminal profiling.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Focus.”
Chao Lun Hui adjusted his footing and continued.
The sword form belonged to Luo Yanhe’s training, but the irritation was entirely his own.
At the final strike, the blade stopped level with the courtyard wall.
Shen Yan Ting examined the line of the sword, then Luo Yanhe’s breathing.
Shen Yan Ting : “Acceptable.”
Chao Lun Hui lowered the weapon.
Luo Yanhe : “Master’s praise has healed this disciple.”
Shen Yan Ting : “It was not praise.”
The healing ended immediately.
Shen Yan Ting allowed him to eat only after checking that his circulation remained stable.
Gu Zhen attempted to claim one bun as a morning transportation fee.
Chao Lun Hui intercepted his hand and moved the entire basket behind his back.
Gu Zhen looked betrayed.
Luo Yanhe : “Security improved.”
Gu Zhen : “Friendship declined.”
Mu Qingyu entered the courtyard as Chao Lun Hui took the first bite.
Mu Qingyu : “He survived?”
Shen Yan Ting : “Barely.”
Luo Yanhe looked at his master.
Shen Yan Ting’s expression remained calm.
Chao Lun Hui decided the answer had been deliberate.
By the time the group entered the busiest part of River Lantern Town, sunlight had spread across the river and the festival had swallowed every major street.
Lantern frames hung from rooftops, bridges and wooden arches.
Residents wrote wishes on strips of coloured paper before tying them beneath painted fish, lotus flowers and small paper animals.
Musicians occupied street corners while merchants competed for attention with grilled meat, sweet cakes, steamed buns and jars of fruit wine.
Children carried lanterns too large for their arms.
Craftsmen repaired torn paper without slowing their conversations.
A woman selling ribbons argued with a customer while her husband stood behind her tying wishes to bamboo frames.
Chao Lun Hui recognised the festival from the original novel.
The eating competition had appeared in a short comedic scene during another main character’s arc.
The bridge formations had been mentioned only because they later controlled access to the northern road.
The novel had not recorded which merchant burnt the first batch of sesame cakes, which child cried because his lantern had crooked ears or how many residents began work before sunrise to make the town look effortless by noon.
Those details belonged to people who had existed beyond the viewpoint he once followed.
The expedition had not abandoned its purpose.
The two White Crane formation specialists were inspecting the seals beneath the eastern bridge, comparing local records with the dormant network detected the previous day.
The affected northern branch remained another day’s journey away, beyond a mountain route unsafe after sunset.
Until the bridge records were copied and the passage confirmed, the core group had permission to gather supplies, observe the town and avoid unnecessary trouble.
Chao Lun Hui considered the final instruction optimistic.
Pei Wuchen : “Senior Brother Luo.”
Chao Lun Hui turned and found Pei Wuchen walking beside him.
Again, the White Crane disciple moved with such controlled silence that Chao Lun Hui remained convinced his sect had replaced ordinary footwork lessons with lessons in haunting.
Luo Yanhe : “Has Junior Brother Pei been following this disciple?”
Pei Wuchen looked mildly surprised.
Pei Wuchen : “No.”
Chao Lun Hui glanced behind them, then back at him.
Luo Yanhe : “Junior Brother appeared from nowhere.”
Pei Wuchen : “I was walking.”
Luo Yanhe studied his calm expression.
Luo Yanhe : “Like a ghost.”
Pei Wuchen laughed.
The written Pei Wuchen had been disciplined, capable and difficult to surprise.
The living man had a quiet laugh, preferred evidence over reassurance and apparently saw nothing suspicious about approaching people without footsteps.
Chao Lun Hui had begun to trust his competence.
Trusting the man himself would require more than maps, food recommendations and one successful route correction.
Pei Wuchen glanced towards Luo Yanhe’s sword.
Pei Wuchen : “Senior Brother completed the morning training?”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple survived three hundred attacks committed by his own hand.”
Pei Wuchen : “An unusual interpretation of practice.”
Luo Yanhe : “The body does not care who holds the sword.”
Ahead of them, Gu Zhen stopped in the middle of the street.
He became completely motionless.
Passing cultivators were forced to move around his broad frame while he stared across the square with the reverence of a pilgrim approaching a sacred mountain.
Luo Yanhe : “Senior Gu.”
No response.
Mu Qingyu followed Gu Zhen’s gaze and closed her eyes.
Mu Qingyu : “Oh no.”
A large wooden stage stood beneath rows of red lanterns.
Long tables covered the platform, each crowded with bowls, plates and towers of roasted meat.
A banner stretched across the front.
˗ˋˏ༺❤︎༻ˎˊ˗RIVER LANTERN FESTIVAL EATING COMPETITION˗ˋˏ༺❤︎༻ˎˊ˗
The grand prize stood beside the registration booth.
A mountain of roasted duck.
Gu Zhen looked at it as though Heaven had finally provided clear instructions.
Gu Zhen : “I have found my destiny.”
Chao Lun Hui answered before his senior could take another step.
Luo Yanhe : “No.”
Gu Zhen looked at him.
Gu Zhen : “Yes.”
Chao Lun Hui moved between him and the stage.
Luo Yanhe : “No.”
Gu Zhen walked around him.
Gu Zhen : “Yes.”
He reached the registration booth before anyone could stop him, moving with the determination of a hero answering Heaven’s call.
Mu Qingyu watched him write his name.
Mu Qingyu : “We should leave him here.”
Pei Wuchen looked towards the stage.
Pei Wuchen : “Would he notice?”
Chao Lun Hui considered the roasted-duck prize.
Luo Yanhe : “Not until tomorrow.”
Gu Zhen returned wearing a wooden contestant token around his neck.
Gu Zhen : “Senior Sister lacks faith.”
Mu Qingyu : “I have faith that this will become embarrassing.”
Gu Zhen : “Then Senior Sister has faith.”
Twenty minutes later, Gu Zhen stood on the stage among experienced eaters from across the region.
Several contestants were twice his width and carried the grim expressions of men who had dedicated their cultivation paths to unreasonable quantities of food.
Gu Zhen looked completely confident.
Chao Lun Hui had remembered the competition as a brief joke in the original novel.
Reality included heat from the cooking fires, impatient contestants, a crowd arguing over favourites and a festival host who had clearly failed to calculate what would happen if someone won too efficiently.
Luo Yanhe : “He is going to die.”
Mu Qingyu nodded.
Mu Qingyu : “Probably.”
Pei Wuchen appeared genuinely curious.
Pei Wuchen : “Has Senior Brother Gu done this before?”
Mu Qingyu did not take her eyes from the stage.
Mu Qingyu : “Unfortunately.”
Shen Yan Ting remained near the edge of the crowd.
His attention moved between the competition, the northern street and the rooftops overlooking the square.
He allowed the group to enjoy the festival without mistaking enjoyment for safety.
The first round began with bowls of noodles.
Gu Zhen finished before the contestant beside him had found a comfortable grip on his chopsticks.
The second round involved stuffed buns.
The third brought roasted chicken, rice cakes and a soup so hot that one contestant began reconsidering his commitment to glory after a single mouthful.
For the first few rounds, dignity survived.
Then one man surrendered after the third plate.
Another began sweating through his robes.
A third stared at an unfinished bowl with the hollow expression of someone reviewing every choice that had brought him to the stage.
Gu Zhen continued eating.
Plate after plate vanished before him.
He showed no fear, no hesitation and no sign of possessing a reasonable stomach.
The host began looking pale.
Festival Host : “Who is this man?”
Chao Lun Hui covered part of his face.
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple has never met him.”
Mu Qingyu glanced sideways.
Mu Qingyu : “You travelled here together.”
Chao Lun Hui kept his hand over his face.
Luo Yanhe : “There is no evidence.”
A few people nearby heard him and laughed.
One young cultivator in grey robes stopped laughing when Luo Yanhe looked in his direction, then lowered his gaze too quickly.
Chao Lun Hui noticed.
Rumours travelled through cultivation circles faster than verified facts.
Some festival visitors had heard that Luo Yanhe was difficult.
Others knew about forbidden cultivation, awakened Luo artefacts or Shen Yan Ting’s close supervision.
A joke did not erase any of it.
The man In grey watched Luo Yanhe’s sword hand even while smiling.
Chao Lun Hui turned back to the stage rather than challenge him.
A public argument would confirm more rumours than it corrected.
The competition entered its final rounds.
One contestant withdrew after a mountain of dumplings.
Another lasted until the spiced lamb and left the stage supported by two relatives.
A third refused to surrender until Gu Zhen finished an entire platter, raised one eyebrow and asked whether the next round would begin soon.
The crowd began chanting his name.
Gu Zhen accepted this as his natural condition.
The final round arrived with only two contestants remaining: Gu Zhen and an enormous man whose arms were nearly as wide as Luo Yanhe’s waist.
The large contestant consumed an entire roasted chicken.
The spectators cheered.
Gu Zhen ate two.
The cheering became screaming.
For the first time since the competition began, the other contestant looked frightened.
He stared at Gu Zhen, at the remaining plates and then at the roasted-duck prize waiting beside the stage.
Gu Zhen smiled encouragingly.
The man surrendered.
The square erupted.
Gu Zhen stood proudly upon the stage, holding the mountain of roasted duck above his head while the crowd shouted his name.
The festival host smiled beside him with the strained expression of a man watching his entire food budget leave in one afternoon.
Several defeated contestants remained seated behind the tables, reconsidering their life choices.
Chao Lun Hui covered his face again.
Gu Zhen : “Victory!”
The group waited while Gu Zhen collected his prize and accepted congratulations from strangers who had apparently decided that excessive eating was a respectable cultivation achievement.
Mu Qingyu looked at the enormous prize.
Mu Qingyu : “Do not attempt to finish all of that tonight.”
Gu Zhen lowered the duck mountain and stared at her as though she had asked him to abandon cultivation.
Gu Zhen : “Why not?”
Mu Qingyu : “Because I refuse to carry you back to the inn.”
Gu Zhen considered this before turning towards Pei Wuchen.
Gu Zhen : “Junior Brother Pei?”
Pei Wuchen smiled politely.
Pei Wuchen : “I also refuse.”
Gu Zhen looked towards Luo Yanhe next.
Chao Lun Hui stepped backwards before he could ask.
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple values his spine.”
The competition crowd scattered as musicians climbed onto the stage for the next performance.
Gu Zhen remained surrounded by children who followed his prize with hopeful expressions.
He guarded the mountain for exactly three breaths.
Then he crouched, pulled away several smaller portions and placed them into waiting hands.
A little girl with a fish lantern received a drumstick.
Two brothers argued over a wing until Gu Zhen separated it evenly.
He kept the largest piece for himself, which prevented the moment from becoming suspiciously noble.
Chao Lun Hui watched him rise with three children still trailing behind his robes.
The original novel had shown Gu Zhen winning the contest.
It had not shown him checking whether the smallest child had received anything.
A group of young cultivators approached from across the street before Chao Lun Hui could say anything.
Their pale robes carried the emblems of smaller regional sects.
The woman leading them wore a sword decorated with tiny silver bells.
Two of her companions looked curious.
A third kept half a step behind and watched Luo Yanhe’s hands.
The lead cultivator stopped at a respectful distance.
Young Cultivator : “Senior Brother Luo.”
Chao Lun Hui glanced behind himself before realising she was speaking to him.
The delay was small but the feeling was not.
Nobody in this world approached Chao Lun Hui.
They greeted, feared, judged and invited Luo Yanhe.
Yet the surprise that warmed him belonged to the life he remembered as his own.
Luo Yanhe : “Yes?”
The young cultivator smiled.
Young Cultivator : “We saw Senior Brother’s sword demonstration earlier.”
Chao Lun Hui remembered correcting Gu Zhen’s deliberately terrible stance beside one of the public training platforms after breakfast.
Gu Zhen had claimed the position reduced the risk of dropping food.
Chao Lun Hui had corrected his wrist, shoulders and footing before realising several visitors had stopped to watch.
Luo Yanhe : “That was not a demonstration.”
Young Cultivator : “It was still impressive.”
The companion at the back shifted when Chao Lun Hui’s gaze moved towards him.
The young man tried to conceal the reaction, but Chao Lun Hui had become familiar with that particular caution.
The lead cultivator noticed as well.
Young Cultivator : “We heard several things before you arrived.”
Her honesty surprised him more than the invitation.
Luo Yanhe : “Most people have.”
Young Cultivator : “Some of them are difficult to reconcile with the person who corrected another cultivator’s stance without humiliating him.”
From behind them, Gu Zhen called out.
Gu Zhen : “He humiliates me constantly.”
Luo Yanhe : “Senior provides material.”
The children near Gu Zhen laughed.
The cautious young man did not, but his shoulders eased enough that his hand left the hilt of his sword.
The lead cultivator touched the silver bells at her waist.
Young Cultivator : “Would Senior Brother like to join us during the lantern release tonight?”
The invitation should have been ordinary.
It did not feel ordinary when the name being welcomed was Luo Yanhe.
Chao Lun Hui did not know whether the original Luo Yanhe would ever have received such an invitation or whether pride, anger and rumour would have prevented it.
He also did not know whether accepting would be interpreted as friendliness, manipulation or something more political by morning.
For one evening, the young cultivators seemed willing to judge what they had seen.
Chao Lun Hui considered that worth answering.
He was about to open his mouth.
Shen Yan Ting : “Luo Yanhe.”
Chao Lun Hui turned before conscious thought reminded him that the name belonged to the person everyone saw.
Shen Yan Ting stood several steps away.
His white robes made him easy to recognise even among the festival crowd.
His gaze passed once over the young cultivators and settled on Luo Yanhe.
Luo Yanhe’s expression brightened automatically.
Luo Yanhe : “Master?”
Shen Yan Ting : “The additional training.”
The brightness vanished.
Luo Yanhe : “Now?”
Shen Yan Ting : “Now.”
Chao Lun Hui looked towards the festival, then towards his master.
Luo Yanhe : “But Master, this disciple completed three hundred strikes before breakfast.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Correct.”
Luo Yanhe : “That should satisfy the day.”
Shen Yan Ting : “It did not.”
Chao Lun Hui gestured towards the food stalls.
Luo Yanhe : “There is food.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Mm.”
He pointed towards the river, where residents were preparing hundreds of lanterns for the evening release.
Luo Yanhe : “There will be lanterns.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Mm.”
Chao Lun Hui looked at the musicians, the crowded streets and Gu Zhen’s roasted-duck mountain.
Luo Yanhe : “There was supposed to be happiness.”
Mu Qingyu made no effort to hide her smile.
Pei Wuchen lowered his gaze, but amusement remained visible.
Shen Yan Ting : “Three hundred sword strikes.”
Chao Lun Hui froze.
Luo Yanhe : “It increased.”
Shen Yan Ting turned towards the quieter courtyard behind the inn.
Shen Yan Ting : “You seem energetic.”
The same answer again.
Chao Lun Hui looked helplessly towards Mu Qingyu.
Luo Yanhe : “Senior Sister.”
Mu Qingyu : “No.”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple has not asked yet.”
Mu Qingyu : “The answer remains efficient.”
Pei Wuchen said nothing.
His courtesy apparently did not extend to rescuing another sect’s disciple from technically legitimate suffering.
The young cultivators watched with sympathetic expressions as Chao Lun Hui followed Shen Yan Ting away.
Young Cultivator : “Senior Brother Luo works very hard.”
Mu Qingyu’s gaze moved towards Shen Yan Ting, whose pace had become firmer after the invitation.
She said nothing.
The training courtyard behind the inn was mostly empty.
Festival music travelled over the surrounding walls, joined by cheers from the main street whenever a performance ended.
Chao Lun Hui drew the sword again.
His arms remembered the morning.
Luo Yanhe : “Master understands that these are the second three hundred strikes today.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Begin.”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple respectfully requests a review process.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Denied.”
Compulsory exercise in the modern world usually came with schedules, membership fees and the theoretical right to leave.
Shen Yan Ting had removed all three complications.
Chao Lun Hui began.
The first fifty strikes were clean despite the ache in Luo Yanhe’s shoulders.
His body settled into the rhythm with frustrating ease.
Each step landed correctly until Chao Lun Hui began thinking about the festival beyond the wall.
At the sixty-third strike, his wrist loosened.
Shen Yan Ting : “Again.”
At the seventy-first, a burst of cheering rose from the river.
Chao Lun Hui looked towards the courtyard entrance.
Shen Yan Ting : “Footing.”
Luo Yanhe’s body corrected the stance before Chao Lun Hui consciously identified the error.
His heel turned, his centre lowered and the sword line recovered in one smooth motion.
There was no memory attached to it.
No hidden voice.
Only knowledge expressed through muscle, balance and cultivation.
Shen Yan Ting stepped closer and adjusted Luo Yanhe’s wrist with two fingers.
Shen Yan Ting : “Do not force the turn.”
Chao Lun Hui repeated the movement.
The blade cut through the air more cleanly.
Luo Yanhe : “Like this?”
Shen Yan Ting : “Yes.”
The approval was simple.
Luo Yanhe’s body relaxed at the sound before Chao Lun Hui could decide whether one correct movement deserved that response.
He continued.
Beyond the courtyard, River Lantern Town grew busier as afternoon leaned towards evening.
More lanterns were lit along the streets.
Visitors crowded the riverbank to choose wishes for the coming year.
Hidden among them stood a hooded figure dressed in dark, unmarked robes.
The stranger watched through gaps between hanging lanterns as Luo Yanhe moved through the sword form under Shen Yan Ting’s supervision.
A faint grey thread emerged between two gloved fingers and crossed the space between the street and the courtyard.
It did not touch Luo Yanhe.
It reached only far enough to test the air around him.
The Luo Clan jade beneath his robes warmed.
Chao Lun Hui mistook the pulse for another response from the buried northern network.
His sword slowed for half a breath.
The grey thread trembled.
The hooded figure closed one hand before the resonance could strengthen.
The thread disappeared, leaving a trace too faint for most cultivators to distinguish from the spiritual energy filling the festival.
The watcher had confirmed what the northern route had already begun to recognise.
The final Luo heir had entered the path.
Hooded Figure : “Found you.”
The words vanished beneath music and laughter.
The figure turned and slipped into the crowd.
Shen Yan Ting looked towards the courtyard entrance.
His hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
Golden eyes searched the passing visitors, lantern frames and rooftops beyond the wall.
Nothing remained except the fading trace of foreign spiritual energy.
Chao Lun Hui reached the hundredth strike and lowered his sword.
Luo Yanhe : “Master.”
Shen Yan Ting did not look away from the street.
Shen Yan Ting : “Hm.”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple was only speaking to them.”
Shen Yan Ting’s gaze returned to his sword.
Shen Yan Ting : “Your wrist is too loose.”
Chao Lun Hui corrected it.
Luo Yanhe : “Master heard what this disciple said.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Continue.”
Chao Lun Hui studied his face and found no explanation.
Shen Yan Ting looked calm, but his attention returned twice to the empty space beyond the courtyard.
Chao Lun Hui assumed he had detected something connected to the northern disturbance.
That was a better explanation than believing his master had declared war on lantern invitations.
Luo Yanhe raised his sword.
Luo Yanhe : “Master is unreasonable.”
Shen Yan Ting : “One hundred and ten.”
Chao Lun Hui’s eyes widened.
Luo Yanhe : “Master added more.”
Shen Yan Ting : “You stopped.”
Luo Yanhe : “Master was distracted.”
Shen Yan Ting : “You were counting.”
Luo Yanhe : “This disciple must defend himself with records.”
Shen Yan Ting : “Continue.”
Chao Lun Hui sighed and resumed the exercise.
Festival music continued beyond the courtyard wall.
Lantern light moved across the stones as evening approached, bright enough to reach Luo Yanhe’s blade with every turn.
Shen Yan Ting remained between him and the open entrance, watching the street whenever the fading trace stirred against his senses.
To Chao Lun Hui, the festival still looked warm, crowded and peaceful.
His sword rose again.
The empty place among the lanterns remained empty.
The chapter has now been updated to the latest revised version.
I truly appreciate everyone who waited and continued supporting this story while I worked on improving it.
I hope this updated version gives you a smoother and more enjoyable reading experience.
Thank you for staying with me.
Happy reading!