Snow falls on the ground outside the window.

The pen in his hand landed on top.

It made a soft rustling sound.

Zeng Yue's expression was focused and solemn.

What he wrote out in his hands looked like a complete pile of meaningless gibberish to the onlooker, requiring a corresponding set of coded words to translate it out, saying all about the situation in the city of Qiushui.

His mind is fluid and clear, and he puts pen to paper without any pause.

The ...