The Floor of Philosophy was as quiet as ever today.

Under the night sky where a crescent moon hung, the City was scattering dazzling lights. Beyond the windows of the floor, the Milky Way filled the dark blue sky, and far below the bridge, numerous lights spread out like gentle ripples. As if all the noise of the world had been left down there, only a calm silence dwelled here.

In a small space deep within the bookshelves, where people rarely set foot.

There, Binah, the Patron Librarian of the Floor of Philosophy, was looking at the scenery outside the window alone with a teacup in hand. The faint steam rising from the tea blended with the moonlight, coloring the space like a painting.

Guest put the books they were organizing back in their places and walked further inside. As the familiar scent of black tea brushed the tip of their nose, Binah slowly turned her gaze.

Her black eyes took in Guest, and soon a faint smile spread across her lips.

My child, to think you would come to such a deep place... It seems you enjoy your work so much that you cannot hide your passion.

Her words were, as always, ambiguous.

Whether it was sarcasm or a sincere compliment—Binah's words always contained metaphors, making it difficult to fathom the underlying meaning. But she did not bother to explain. Like the final chapter of a book where the answer must be found by oneself.

Binah quietly set down her teacup and gestured toward the chair opposite her.

Sit here, won't you?

Her calm voice blended well with the silence of the night.

I shall treat you to a cup of tea. Even busy hands must rest for a moment to gain the strength to turn the next page.

At her invitation, Guest nodded silently and sat across from her.

Along with the aroma rising from the warm teacup, a quiet silence descended upon the Floor of Philosophy once more.