The next day, afternoon.

It’s the calligraphy class at Shuexingtang again.

Just like in the previous classes, Zhao Rong took the students of Shuxingtang out of the lecture hall to give lectures outside, a form of "happy education".

However, this time was a little different. Led by Zhao Rong, the students headed straight to Linlu Mountain where they had been last time without stopping.

After arriving at the foot of the mountain, the group rested at the Zibei Pavilion, then followed Zhao Rong up the stairs and walked into the corridor to climb the mountain.

On the winding corridor, Zhao Rong was holding a large stack of reading notes that he had collected not long ago, flipping through them briefly while leading the way.

His eyes quickly swept across the papers in his hands, and he would occasionally turn back a few pages to glance at the signatures of the students on the first page.

Gradually, his brows furrowed.

Not long after, Zhao Rong put down the manuscript in his hand and turned around to look at his classmates behind him.

He frowned and looked around, then opened his lips slightly, paused for a moment, and then closed them again.

Zhao Rong's brows relaxed, and his expression returned to its previous calmness. He looked at Yu Huaijin, who was looking at him with an inquiring look.

He shook his head slightly, said nothing, and turned back.

On hand, I have the homework assigned to the students of Ruxingtang a few days ago, asking them to go back and write down their reading experience carefully.

Zhao Rong was not satisfied.

Except for a few individuals, the overall situation gave him a sense of perfunctory response.

In fact, if the writing is just not good, it would be fine. But if he does not teach the characters well, it is also Mr. Zhao's responsibility.

It’s just that some people... really think that I don’t recognize your handwriting.

Zhao Rong shook his head.

Almost every word he had seen once could be permanently memorized in his mind and he could recognize it at a glance.

Therefore, it is clear at a glance whether the account is correct or not.

At this moment, Zhao Rong raised his eyes, passed by the crowds of people and piles of books around him, and looked up at the top of the mountain, the nine-story dangerous building towering into the clouds.

Not long ago, on the morning of the calligraphy class at Zhengyi Hall, he brought Gu Yiwu and other students from Zhengyi Hall here to share their reading experiences.

But compared to nowadays.

The progress of calligraphy classes at my own Ruxing Hall is already far behind that of Zhengyi Hall.

In fact, what matters most to someone is attitude.

Zhao Rong narrowed his eyes and thought for a while, then retracted his gaze and continued on his way.

After one stick of incense.

A group of Mo Chi students came to the library on the top of Linlu Mountain.

Although the library is very tall, it does not appear to occupy very much space when viewed from the outside.

However, judging from the orderly yet constant flow of people coming in and out of the library entrance at this moment, the area inside must be much larger than this.

Zhao Rong knew without hesitation that there was something fishy going on.

But now, he and the students behind him were in class, and they just came to hand in some things. They would not go in for a while, so no one knew the details.

Zhao Rong turned around and said to Yu Huaijin and others who were following him:

"Rest where you are and keep quiet. Xuanji, come and help."

After he finished speaking, he walked forward.

In front, outside the library, on a small open space paved with smooth white jade stones, several people who were in charge of the library were busy behind several large desks. Books and manuscripts were piled up like mountains on the tables, and several people were coming in and out of the library from time to time.

Yu Huaijin arranged the students and then walked quickly forward.

She held her hands high and followed Zhao Rong's footsteps, walking closely on his right side, one body length slower.

Yu Huaijin suddenly said, "Mr. Zhao, can you please stop calling me by my nickname?"

Zhao Rong in front paused slightly, turned around with a smile, and glanced at the woman behind him whose stern face seemed to have remained unchanged for eight hundred years.

Her tone just now was serious.

"What should I call you? Huai Jin or something like that is too common and doesn't reflect the harmony between our teacher and student. So what should I call you... Xiao Yu'er?"

Yu Huaijin: “???”

Zhao Rong glanced at Yu Huaijin, who lowered his head and pursed his lips in silence, smiled, handed over a few stacks of books, and continued walking forward.

The latter took it in his hand and followed.

The two came to the long table in the open space.

Zhao Rong spoke a few words to the curious managers of the library and explained his purpose.

Afterwards, the two returned the books, handed in their paper manuscripts, and met with the library manager to process entry tokens for the students of Ratexing Hall.

Today the sky is cloudless and the autumn sun is shining brightly.

In the afternoon, the sunshine on the top of the mountain is peaceful, and in front of the library, people coming and going are quiet and silent.

While Zhao Rong was waiting at the table for the formalities to be processed, he looked out at the scenery around him.

Tomorrow is the long-awaited day off, and he is in a good mood. However, the mid-month exam will be soon after the day off, which makes Zhao Rong feel that time is a little rushed, mainly because of the current progress of the calligraphy class.

By the way, he went to see Zhu Yourong a few days ago and actually made a small bet with her about the results of this calligraphy class.

Zhao Rong felt that if he lost to Teacher Zhu, he would not be able to hold his head up in front of her.

You have to speak softly, and you can't speak loudly and point fingers at others, otherwise, Zhu Yourong will catch you and say something like, "Is this all Mr. Zhao has done? The students in the second class are not as good as those in the fourth class."

Zhao Rong used his good friend Fan Yushu's brain to think and knew that by then, the expression of the woman in Confucian clothes would definitely make her look like she deserved a beating.

He chuckled and shook his head.

Next to him, Yu Huaijin, who was now on guard against fire, theft and Zhao Rong, frowned suddenly. He turned his head with extreme vigilance and looked suspiciously at the strange smile on the face of the man next to him.

The next second, she would rather kill someone by mistake than let him go, and she said seriously: "Mr. Zhao, please respect yourself."

Zhao Rong: “…”

Is there something wrong with me or with you?

Just as Zhao Rong was complaining, suddenly, the endless stream of people coming and going outside the library seemed to pause.

The next moment, the crowded crowd slightly split to the sides, leaving a path visibly wide for two people.

At the same time, many scholars entering and leaving the library stopped, turned their heads, and looked in the same direction inside the door.

"Brother Sima."

"Brother."

"Brother One."

Among the crowd, greetings came one after another.

The sudden noise at the door immediately attracted the attention of everyone outside the library.

Zhao Rong looked up curiously. From his direction, he saw that at the entrance of the library, many scholars and senior brothers were bowing and saluting respectfully.

"Hey, it's Brother Sima!"

At this moment, not far behind Zhao Rong, among the students of Ruxingtang who were resting on the spot, someone spoke in surprise.

"Really? I haven't seen Brother Sima for a while, and he hasn't come to see me..."

There was a sudden noise among the students of Ruxing Hall. Those who were originally resting on the spot stood up one after another. One of them spoke in a daze, and then his voice gradually became quieter.

"Haha, yes, it's been a long time since I came here."

Several students responded, and then many male students looked in a certain direction in the crowd.

Zhao Rong turned his head to look at the students behind him, and raised his eyebrows when he heard some words that confused him.

Just at this moment! Before Zhao Rong could figure out what his classmates were talking about, in his peripheral vision, a slender figure slowly walked out of the door of the library.

Zhao Rong's attention was instantly drawn and he turned around to look.

He appeared to be a very graceful young man, wearing a slim Confucian robe with a white shirt and a blue belt. His clothing was quite simple, but Zhao Rong felt that he had a very unique temperament.

When he first took a look, what impressed him most were the man's eyes and lips.

Eyes cold.

Thin lips.

A cold look.

At this moment, facing the greetings and words of the crowd, he slightly drooped his eyelids, nodded his chin, stared straight ahead without moving, and walked out of the library without stopping, following the path that separated the crowd.

After leaving the library, the young man with cold eyes glanced around, as if he was going down the mountain, and walked towards where Zhao Rong was.

Beside Zhao Rong, the bookstore managers who were originally busy stopped what they were doing and saluted to the man with cold eyes.

Yu Huaijin, who had been silent the whole time, also took a small step forward, saluted meticulously, and said calmly: "Senior Brother Sima."

The young man with cold eyes slowed down his pace, turned his head to look at this junior sister from Mo Chi Academy, and nodded.

At this time, Zhao Rong, who was sandwiched between the library manager and Yu Huaijin, felt a little embarrassed.

The main thing was that he didn't know who this person was at all. Wouldn't it be even more awkward to greet him in a familiar manner? And it was not convenient to ask Yu Huaijin now.

However, the young man with cold eyes was very "considerate" and did not give Zhao Rong too much time to worry. After nodding to Yu Huaijin, he passed by him without even looking at Zhao Rong.

Zhao Rong blinked and looked at the slender back of this senior brother with a unique aura.

Suddenly, in his sight, the young man with cold eyes did not go down the mountain directly, but turned and walked closer to the students of Ruexingtang who were being ordered by Zhao Rong to rest quietly.

At this moment, seeing the person coming, all the students had already forgotten someone's instructions, and they all surrounded him, calling him "Senior Brother Sima" enthusiastically.

The young man with cold eyes walked in a certain direction among the crowd without stopping. Finally, he stopped in front of two female students.

Zhao Rong glanced past.

They are Xiao Hongyu and Li Xueyu.

"Senior Brother, long time no see." Xiao Hongyu said with a smile.

"Um."

The young man with cold eyes responded, but his gaze had been fixed on... Li Xueyu since just now.

Li Xueyou tilted her head back, looked at the cold-eyed man who was half a head taller than her, and smiled brightly, "Brother Du Yi."

Sima Duyi lowered his head to look at her, blinked his cold eyes lightly, and twitched the corners of his mouth.

"Xiaoxueyou."

Zhao Rong finally heard him speak, but his voice was unexpectedly not as cold as Zhao Rong had imagined, but rather a deep and magnetic one.

It makes people feel that the sense of distance created by those cold eyes seems to be closer.

Li Xueyou glanced at the bookstore next to him and asked, "Brother Duyi, what are you doing here?"

Sima Duyi said casually, "I went to the seventh floor to help the teacher with some things."

The seventh floor of the library?

Zhao Rong raised his eyelids slightly, then narrowed them and looked at him carefully again. This... bookworm.

In the entire Linlu Academy, there are probably less than one-handed number of such scholars. He had only heard of them a few times from Fan Yushu before, and this was the first time he had seen them.

"Sima Duyi, the deputy headmaster's top student, Linlu Academy, a scholar."

Yu Huaijin suddenly said softly.

Zhao Rong glanced at her sideways and nodded.

At this moment, the old-fashioned woman next to Zhao Rong looked at Sima Duyi with her usually calm eyes, and a serious look appeared in her eyes.