A brief interlude occurred on the way up the mountain.
By the time they were halfway up, a few of the young ladies grew too tired to walk and wanted to rest in a pavilion.
The pavilion was already occupied. Judging by their attire, the occupants were two young men. The two had their backs to the entrance, facing the other side of the pavilion. They were discussing poetry inspired by the rime-covered trees on the cliff, so they didn't immediately notice the commotion behind them.
Only when Zhao Jing and the others approached the pavilion did the two men notice and quickly turn to look. One of them, a man in sapphire-blue robes, suddenly flushed red upon seeing someone in the group, his fair, shy face instantly coloring.
"Why, isn't it Mr. Ling? I thought you went to study at the Imperial College. When did you return to the Prefecture?"
