Dusk fell over the Master's Mansion.
The remaining glow of the setting sun spilled through the windows of the study, gently covering the slender back of a man.
This man, who appeared to be in his fifties and was rather thin, was none other than the current Master and tutor to the Crown Prince, of the Huagai Hall—Han Yu.
On normal days, unless occupied with official duties, Han Yu would always come to his study to practice calligraphy at this time, a habit he had not broken for decades.
Today was no exception.
You wouldn't know it by looking at his frail appearance, which made him seem about ten years older than his actual age, but his calligraphy could be described as: shapes rivaling that of Yan Zhenqing's strong and vigorous strokes, with a charm fierce as a raging lion and thirsty steed, and an energy soaring like a phoenix takes flight, emitting an aura as boundless as the ocean and grandiose in spirit.
