The night sky hung low, and a faint ink fragrance filled the study.
Behind a desk piled with scrolls, Ran Qingchen, holding a fine brush made from purple wolf hair, rubbed her slightly sore wrist and glanced at the sky outside the window before continuing to bury herself in the documents, constantly making annotations.
Occasionally, when encountering difficult problems, she would pause, frown in thought, and unconsciously bite the end of her brush.
The sheer moonlight filtered through the curtain and slanted across her body, enhancing her ethereal allure even further.
As the new head of the institute, she had plenty of matters to handle, especially since the institute was still in its formative stage. Even with the capable assistance of Yuan Anjiang, Ran Qingchen still often felt overwhelmed and exhausted.
However, her naturally resilient nature compelled her to persevere despite the immense pressures.
