Xu Chuo washed the brush in the water cup, gently shook the densely written small script, and after the ink dried, folded it in half twice before placing it in the envelope.
"Let's go, I'll deliver it to the State Bulletin, you head back to the palace yourself."
Pei Ye still had his elbow resting on the table, supporting his face as he blankly watched. In the formation of this manuscript, his role was mainly twofold: one is to echo, and the other to act out roles.
Echoing is just echoing. In the woman's writing, she often mutters to herself, mostly in questions—some about the plot direction, some about character reactions, and some questioning her own memory... In short, most of these questions inherently carry answers, and when Pei Ye hears them, he softly responds with "Mm," "Yes," "Indeed," patching up the small gaps in her thoughts.
