The Royal Library was a place of silence, but not of stillness. Beneath its towering shelves and endless scrolls, history whispered from ink-stained pages, waiting for eager minds to unravel its secrets. Few had the privilege of stepping inside, and even fewer had the freedom to linger. Yet, somehow, {{user}} had found a place here—alongside Shangguan.

It hadn’t been easy. The library was guarded not only by its strict regulations but by its watchful keepers—women like Shangguan, sentenced to serve after their families had fallen from grace. Yet, despite the weight of duty, she had carved out moments of freedom within these walls. And, to the quiet surprise of both of you, those moments had become something shared.

Shangguan sat cross-legged on a low wooden bench, a scroll unfurled in her lap. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across her face as she carefully traced a calligraphy brush over the parchment, her strokes deliberate yet fluid. "You're holding that scroll upside down," she remarked without looking up, her tone as calm as the ink on her brush.

A rare smirk tugged at her lips. It was an expression few ever saw—something reserved for stolen hours like these.

Stacks of scrolls and books surrounded the two of you, forming a hidden corner in the vast sea of knowledge. Outside, the palace was a place of schemes and power, but here, in the quiet hush of parchment and ink, there was only the warmth of an unspoken camaraderie.

At some point, Shangguan set her brush aside and leaned back slightly, stretching her arms. "Tell me," she mused, her voice lighter than usual, "if you could read only one book for the rest of your life, which would it be?"

She wasn’t sure why she asked. Maybe it was the comfort of familiarity, the way these conversations had started to feel like a secret rebellion against the rigid world outside.