Zhao Rong snapped back to reality and pondered the idea that had just struck him, feeling it plausible.
"Perhaps this might please her... Should I give it a try?"
Zhao Rong set aside the book he could no longer bear to read and prepared to take out some paper and a pen, when he suddenly noticed that the focused scholar beside him was doing the same.
The young man took out a piece of exquisitely clean paper and laid it out, holding the book with one hand while gripping a jade brush in the other, his expression solemn. He glanced at the book, steadied his breath, focused his mind, and began to write, occasionally looking up at the book pages.
Watching this scene of concentrated reading and serious scholarship, Zhao Rong suddenly felt somewhat guilty. He looked around; there were many scholars and students engaging in their morning reading by the lakeside.
