The elder in dark clothing gazed into Song Kuangyi's clear and sincere eyes, seemingly devoid of any impurities. After a moment of silence, he ultimately refrained from continuing the topic.
He understood this student's nature, appearing gentle but with a very firm inner resolve.
He said no more, stepping forward three steps, closing the distance to the book table, and lowered his voice:
"Young master, Young Master Yan just called the residence again."
The smile on Song Kuangyi's face deepened slightly:
"Kuangyan, huh? He's always clung to mother since childhood, always liking to tell her things first. Surely, this time he called her directly, didn't he?"
The elder in dark clothing nodded.
Song Kuangyi picked up the warm tea on the desk and took a gentle sip:
"What did he say on the phone?"
The elder took a deep breath, yet his expression turned extraordinarily grave.
