Sheng Tang had been to Gu Shiting's study several times.
Every time she came, she marveled at how tidy it was.
Although Sheng Tang appeared proper and elegant outside, her house would be a mess if not for the help of a housekeeper.
She had stayed at the Gu Family for some time and heard that Gu Shiting's study was always organized by himself.
The west wall was a whole row of bookshelves stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Even with Gu Shiting's height, he had to use a ladder to reach the books on the top shelf.
The books on the shelves were neatly arranged without a single one out of place.
Sheng Tang had flipped through a few of them casually, and it seemed that Gu Shiting had at least skimmed through most of his books.
All of his life for the past ten years was encapsulated in this room.
His shelves held nearly a thousand books, and he had read every single one. Of course, it was impossible to finish them all, as some were not to his liking.
