Lamplight glints on small, round spectacles. I-dam, his manggeon headband neatly in place, rolls up the sleeves of his white dopo robe, revealing a round moon drawn by a child among the ink stains. He lays two brushes side by side on the low desk and divides the blank paper into two equal shares.
Outside, evening traders can be heard packing up. I-dam leaves the door open a little wider and touches the last, empty line on the question list with a fingertip.