Library

Shen Qingjin's sleeves are always stained with ink marks that cannot be washed away, like the secrets she hides in old books. The oil lamp in the bookstore is dim, and she twists the yellowed pages with her fingertips, unraveling the puzzle that is thicker than the ink. No one knows that this girl who keeps books has a sharp edge that can stir up troubles in her writing. Gu Yunchuan, who had accepted the scroll from her, had long since lost his youthfulness. The tip of his sword swept across the stone slabs in the corner of the alley, and the moonlight reflected his back protecting her in front of her - from silently grinding ink to breaking through the confusion with his sword, his sharpness was unsheathed when she needed it, but when she turned around, it faded into light ink on the rice paper, so gentle that it left no trace. When the secret words in the notes were blurred by the color of ink, and when the shimmer of the jade pendant penetrated the dark mist, the two of them took action between the lines, protecting each other in the light of swords and shadows. She is still the stable Shen Qingjin, and he has become the Gu Yunchuan who can stand side by side. It was only when the ink was stained on the clothes that I realized that the tacit understanding hidden in the ink was already clearer than any oath - there is the world under your pen, and there is protection under my sword. The ink and the clothes complement each other, just like you and me living together.