Nightfall approached, and after Lu Xiao had lulled Ali to sleep, he left the room.
The wind atop the mountain was rather cool. Xuanyuan Qiankun, Xu Youcai, and Qian Youde were still drinking and dining, their laughter occasionally spilling from the room.
Lu Xiao didn't join the gathering; instead, he sat down beside a stone table, propped his chin with one hand, and fixed his gaze on a particular star in the night sky.
Atop the mountain, the stars shone brightly and splendidly.
He didn't know how much time had passed when Lu Xiao took his mother's notebook out from his bosom.
Flipping it open, he quietly read it by the moonlight.
"Glad it's not lost," Lu Xiao softly caressed the notebook.
It had gotten wet when he jumped into the Ancient River, and the writing on it had become somewhat blurred.
Fortunately, his mentor had saved him, and it was his mentor who had carefully dried out the notebook.
"Owe the old man too much," Lu Xiao sighed to himself.
