Bologue dragged the drunken Palmer back home; the guy was almost a puddle of mud, and Bologue didn't bother with him, threw him onto the bed, covered him with a blanket, and after quickly freshening up, returned to his own room.
Turning on the desk lamp, a corner of the dark room brightened, Bologue pulled open the drawer and wrote a large paragraph with flair in his notebook. Usually, when writing, Bologue was very engrossed, but for a while now, his mind had been difficult to settle.
Bologue's mood was somewhat chaotic, extremely chaotic, tangled and unresolved.
Thankfully, time can numb all pain, Bologue had gradually accepted the fact of Xilin's return, and a strange premonition rose in his heart that in the near future, Bologue would face Xilin once again...
Bologue was not sure whether the two would maintain peace or confront each other with swords.
"Ah..."
