Lin Wenruo silently scrutinized the face of the young Confucian scholar before him.
His appearance could only be described as decent, but he had a pair of bright eyes. They were not like the dazzling stars of those peerless geniuses Lin Wenruo had seen before, but rather contained a faint glimmer, like a light in a dark chamber that had endured for a thousand years.
When you looked into his eyes and spoke to him, he would stare back into yours, and you could be certain he was earnestly listening to every word you said, no matter how casually you spoke.
This was something Lin Wenruo knew the first time he met him.
Lin Wenruo closed his eyes, lifted his head slightly, and exhaled the stale air from his chest. Relaxing his spine and shoulders for a moment, he then straightened up again, abruptly opened his eyes, and stared into the calm eyes before him, nodding emphatically.
