6. The First Mission

Morning at the Wenxuan Library

After reporting in, Wensi Bo quickly blended in with his colleagues. Li Hao, however, was reluctant to initiate conversation, so he stood by the door watching them. Here, they were not only colleagues but also classmates, making their relationships quite significant. Yue’er, having nothing to do, sat reading a book. At that moment, a senior staff member approached and said, “The top three new graduates, go organize the historical archives!”

The Wenxuan Library was indeed vast, housing over a hundred different types of books spread across five hundred rooms. Each room had a special name: for example, medical books were stored under the title “Saving a Life Surpasses Building a Seven-Story Pagoda,” while history books were classified under “Eternal Fame.” Any door bearing such a name indicated the category of books inside. The “Eternal Fame” section alone consisted of 150 rooms, each about 50 square meters, containing over 200 sets of books.

It was well known that to prevent accidental damage, the library had dispersed the books rather than storing them together. Different categories were not only separated but also interspersed across three different locations, making the task of organizing particularly challenging. As they stepped out of the reading pavilion, Yue’er pondered for a moment and realized the three locations were quite far apart — a twenty-minute walk away. It would be more efficient to split up, with each person taking a different location. She then suggested to Li Hao and Wensi Bo, “Shall we divide and conquer? One goes to the east wing, one to the west wing, and one stays in the center. How about that?”

Wensi Bo smiled upon hearing Yue’er’s proposal. “I agree with the top scholar’s suggestion. I’ll take the west wing!” Although all were within the library, the distances were considerable—at least a twenty-minute walk between sections—intended to ensure that, in case of fire, the entire collection would not be destroyed.

Yue’er looked at the elderly Wensi Bo, then at the sturdy Li Hao, and said, “I should go to the west wing, Li the second scholar to the east wing, and Wensi Bo, the third scholar, stay here.” It was a gesture of respect for the elder. After all, Wensi Bo was advanced in years, while the younger men could easily cover the twenty-minute walk, which might be challenging for him.

Wensi Bo chuckled, “It’s alright. I may not have the stamina of you young ones, but walking that distance is no problem.” He understood Yue’er’s intention to care for him by having him stay put, but he felt it was unfair.

Yue’er smiled gently, “Wensi Bo, you’re overthinking it. It’s not just to look after you; the books here are frequently handled and bound to be somewhat disordered. Naturally, someone as meticulous as you is needed to organize them. We have the awareness of our own strengths!” She said this to ease Wensi Bo’s mind, so he wouldn’t feel it was merely because of his age that she wanted him to stay.

Li Hao, looking impatient, glanced at them and said, “Stop dawdling. If you keep talking, it’ll be dark before you finish!” With that, he strode off toward the east wing. Yue’er felt Li Hao was a bit arrogant but essentially a good person.

Watching Li Hao’s hurried figure, Yue’er bowed respectfully to Wensi Bo and said, “Third scholar Wensi, I’m taking my leave.” Wensi Bo returned the gesture with a nod, and they each began their work. No matter what their futures held, for now, they were comrades in the same trench, ready to support one another.

Wenxuan Library, West Wing

The west wing was desolate, rarely visited by anyone—only those of a certain caliber would come here. Dressed in men’s clothing, Hui Yue’er entered this world filled only with books and no people. What a pure world it was, where all one needed to do was acquire knowledge, without expecting anything in return. Could such innocence exist in the human world? Yue’er wondered, gazing at a large tree in the courtyard. Upon closer inspection, it was a ginkgo tree, its vein pattern a forked bifurcation, resembling two lovers embracing. It reminded her of a thousand-year-old ginkgo she had once seen, said by locals to be a male and female tree whose roots had intertwined so deeply they could not be separated. Together for over a thousand years, that ginkgo was revered as a sacred emblem of love, where young couples often made wishes beneath its branches to remain together forever.

Looking at the ginkgo tree heavy with golden fruit, Yue’er softly asked, “I wonder how many centuries you’ve stood here?” Then she entered one of the “Eternal Fame” rooms. First, she opened the long-shuttered windows, then dusted the bookshelves, proceeding methodically to arrange the books. Occasionally, she glanced through the paper windows at the ginkgo tree, her beautiful eyes revealing a hint of wistful admiration.