Ruyi carried the lunchbox and returned to the secluded courtyard. She placed the dishes on the few tables.
Duan Rong had hidden on Wuji Mountain for a day and a night, without a drop of water, his stomach long since empty. Now, looking at the steaming dishes, his appetite surged, and like a wind sweeping away clouds, he polished off the steamed pork and the bowl in front of him. Even the pot of yellow wine was drained to the bottom.
Duan Rong put down his bowl and chopsticks and wiped his mouth, letting out a comfortable burp.
Ruyi immediately brought over freshly brewed tea.
While sipping a few mouthfuls of clear tea, Duan Rong watched Ruyi tidying up the bowls and chopsticks and said, "Ruyi, go fetch paper and brush."
"Paper and brush?" Ruyi's expression changed; since Duan Rong moved into the courtyard, he hadn't touched paper and brush.
