Rèn Qímǐn sat in his study for the entire night. He exhausted every bit of his knowledge, incessantly drawing charts, sketching lines, and tabulating data.
Square graphs, cylindrical diagrams, curves, trends—he analyzed them all. He seemed desperate to extract proof of Shen Yuchu’s feelings for him from these cold figures. Yet, to a man with a precise scientific mind, the data before him—and the entire room of discarded drafts littering the floor—made winning over Shen Yuchu seem far more difficult than drafting military strategies or formulating tactical maneuvers.
Finally, Rèn Qímǐn slumped powerlessly in his chair. Pens lay scattered at his feet, along with broken nibs, leaking cartridges, and overturned inkwells.
Chapter 135