At nine-thirty in the evening, the Ancient Books Department of the Municipal Library had long since disappeared. Gu Feng was left sitting at the table by the window, twisting a soft-bristled brush between his fingertips, and slowly taking care of the thread-bound books that had just been taken out of the warehouse.
The dim desk lamp made his shadow long. He wore a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose and wore a crisply ironed white shirt. The cuffs were rolled up to his forearm, revealing an inconspicuous mechanical watch on his wrist. Just by looking at his appearance, everyone would praise him as "gentle as jade". Even Aunt Zhang, who sweeps the floor, often says to others: "Xiao Gu from our ancient books department has a good temper, profound knowledge, and is considerate to others. It is rare to see such an upright young man these days."
