Miss Truth

But this time, at the end of his rope, the first person he thought of was Ran Yan. Throughout the years, he had doubted everyone who approached him, whether inadvertently or intentionally. Only Ran Yan’s straightforwardness and boldness allowed him to let down his guard a bit.

However, for someone like him, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Su Fu casually covered Ran Yan with the quilt, slipped out of the curtains, picked up the bundle on the floor, climbed out the window, and disappeared into the vast rainy night after a few leaps.

In early autumn, Suzhou was shrouded in a misty night rain, while the capital of Great Tang, Chang’an, was illuminated by a bright moon in the sky.

Pingkang Square was lined with large estates, red gates, and embroidered doorways that appeared solemn under the moonlight. A pigeon fluttered onto the railing outside a loft and cooed.

The loft window opened, and a servant in grey clothes took a tiny bamboo tube from the pigeon and quickly went back inside.

Inside the room, which wasn’t lit, moonlight shone through the Korean paper on the lattice window, casting its light on a handsome face. He lay on his side, hand propping up his head, eyes slightly downcast as if asleep, surrounded by piles of books.

"My lord, there’s a message." the servant said softly, approaching him.