The next morning, as soon as Zhou Shuren arrived at the government office, he was stopped by Wong Ju, "Has Lord Wong returned from the capital? Is the old man feeling any better?"
Wong Ju let out a dry laugh. His own father had been feigning illness, all to meet with him and have a talk, "Old age inevitably brings some minor ailments, but after resting for several days, he's much improved."
His heart was blocked, should he praise his own father's shrewdness? The old man had noticed something was amiss from his several reply letters. He blamed himself, too, having written Shen Yang's name multiple times, which led his sharp-witted father to catch on to the issue and summon him back.
Zhou Shuren stared at Wong Ju without saying a word.
Wong Ju's heart skipped a beat, "My lord?"
Zhou Shuren withdrew his gaze, "You surely don't realize that every time you feel guilty, your gaze shifts downward."
Wong Ju, "...."
