The official robe now seemed too large for her, and even under that black gauze cap, her once sleek, black hair had threads of white.
At this moment, Mo Chou sat despondently behind the desk, in front of her piled mountains of reports and frontline military updates.
Hearing the door open, Mo Chou did not lift her head and hoarsely said:
"Leave."
After a moment, seeing no movement, she nearly shouted, raising her head:
"I told you to get out, didn't you hear me..."
She stopped abruptly!
Mo Chou stared blankly at the familiar figure standing at the study's entrance, as if in a dream. She suddenly widened her eyes, muttering:
"You...you..."
Zhao Douan's gaze was complex as he spoke:
"Mo Zhaorong, long time no see. It's me, I've returned."
Not a dream... Mo Chou's mind went blank. Then, suddenly as if pricked by a needle, she stood up abruptly, knocking over the ink stone beside her. The ink splattered all over her, yet she paid it no mind.
