Chen Rong paused to focus her sight. She immediately recognized that he was the middle-aged scholar who often accompanied Wang Hong, the same one who had been with them in Mo’yang.
Chen Rong quickly accorded him a curtsy and respectfully said, “Aye, how may I help you, sir?”
The scholar strode to her carriage. Under the moonlight, he used a strange look to regard Chen Rong.
Afterward, he presented something to her and said, “This is for you.”
“For me?” Chen Rong curiously received it from his hand. She found that it was a sachet made from the finest palace silk. Soft and warm, it apparently had only been taken off of its owner not too long ago.
The scholar chuckled and said, “Or rather, it’s from Qilang.”
Thump thump thump, Chen Rong’s heart pounded faster.
She bit her lips and stared in the direction of the lights. Her heart that had just frozen up was fast melting. Slowly, she dropped her gaze and asked, “Why did he give this to me?”
“I don’t know,” the middle-aged scholar smiled, “When I asked, Qilang only said you’ll understand.”
He laughed pleasantly. Watching Chen Rong’s face, he nodded his head in satisfaction and added: “I’ve traveled far and wide and have come across many things, but this is my first time passing personal belongings to a little girl. Haha, what a novel experience.”
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