After the meeting, an unexpected scene occurred: those old-school poets in long gowns and modern writers in western suits, who had very different styles and were clearly divided in the past, suddenly gathered around Zheng Wanqing, cast admiring glances at her, and couldn't wait to discuss with her.

"Mr. Qingwu, your views are refreshing to me. Would you be so kind as to have dinner with me so we can have a deeper discussion?" A well-known writer invited enthusiastically, his eyes full of anticipation.

Zheng Wanqing smiled and declined: "Thank you very much, but I have other plans. I'm really sorry. Let's talk again when we have a chance."

Seeing this, Ji Chen stepped forward calmly at the right time. His posture was as straight as a pine tree, and his left hand seemed to be inadvertently supporting Zheng Wanqing three inches behind her back, showing just the right amount of protectiveness without being inappropriate.

At the same time, he extended his right hand and made an extremely elegant "please" gesture, with smooth and natural movements. He smiled, his eyes were gentle and calm, and said: "Everyone, Mr. Qingwu has been traveling a long way..."

Before he could finish his words, everyone present was smart and understood his implication in an instant, and they all moved tactfully to make way for him.

At this time, a gentleman in a fine suit, with an anxious look on his face, tried to take advantage of this gap to hand his business card to Zheng Wanqing.

Ji Chen keenly sensed the other party's intention, and unnoticeably turned sideways, skillfully blocking the other party's outstretched hand with his straight and crisp suit cuffs.

As the two of them walked out of the hotel, the evening breeze blew gently, bringing a touch of comfort.

Ji Chen turned his head slightly, stared at Zheng Wanqing's profile, and said in a gentle voice: "Wanqing, your performance at the seminar today was really wonderful. Those unique insights will surely make the literary world have a deeper understanding of your talent."

Zheng Wanqing tucked her scattered hair behind her ears and smiled: "If it weren't for your help along the way, I wouldn't be so calm. By the way, do you have any plans for the future?"

Ji Chen raised his wrist to check his watch. The afterglow cast a gentle halo on his glasses: "It's still early. I heard there's a Boya Bookstore in Jinan. It's a treasure trove of books. It not only houses many rare ancient books, but also many out-of-print foreign books. Why don't we go take a look? Maybe we can find some information that will be useful for our research."

The study in the twilight is like a warm lantern, with mulberry paper pasted on the carved window lattices, and orange light shining through the window lattices onto the bluestone slabs.

Ji Chen pushed open the heavy wooden door. The scent of ink mixed with the scent of paper accumulated over the years that hit him in the face made Zheng Wanqing breathe lighter unconsciously.

Zheng Wanqing stopped in front of the foreign bookshelf, her eyes wandering around the bookshelf, and suddenly fixed on the gold-stamped poetry book on the top shelf. A glimmer of surprise flashed in his eyes, and he subconsciously stood on tiptoe, stretched his arms upward, trying to touch the poetry book, but his fingertips could only just touch the edge of the bookshelf.

At this moment, the scent of cologne from behind lingered in her nose. Ji Chen's arm brushed past her ear, and his sleeve brushed against her hair, causing a slight itch. His fingers were long and powerful, and with a light hook, the precious book of poems landed steadily in his palm.

"Is this the one?" He lowered his voice, as if he was afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the study. When handing the book to her, his fingertips deliberately avoided her touch, but when he took it back, he lingered for a second without leaving any trace.

Zheng Wanqing took the book, and the sheepskin cover showed delicate lines in her palm. She softly read the gold-stamped French title, and her fingertips unconsciously traced the pattern on the spine. Ji Chen's eyes unconsciously fell on her slightly trembling eyelashes, where the fine golden light reflected by the copperplate engraving was reflected, making him a little dazed for a moment.

"Excuse me, I need this book of poems." He suddenly turned to the boss and said in a more hurried voice than before.

The owner of the study cast an approving look over his reading glasses: "You have good eyesight. This is a limited edition from 1893, all hand-bound, and the copperplate engravings are all by famous artists. I'm afraid there's no other copy in the whole city of Jinan."

"I can do it myself..." Zheng Wanqing hurriedly reached for her handbag, but she was touched by the back of Ji Chen's hand. His palm was warm and dry, and he politely withdrew it when she was stunned.

"It's been so long since I've met your old friend, but I haven't treated you to a meal yet. Don't refuse this kind gift." He pushed his glasses to hide his inner turmoil, and his eyes casually fell on the bookshelf behind her. "Just consider it a gift to celebrate your successful seminar today."

Zheng Wanqing was slightly stunned, and looking at Ji Chen's sincere eyes, she couldn't refuse after all.

The Jinpu Railway Hotel was as quiet as water late at night, with only a few wall lamps casting a dim glow on the corridor.

Zheng Wanqing was organizing materials for today's seminar in the guest room, her pen tip rustling on the paper. Suddenly, a slight knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.