[ Yi Sang's notebook is nothing like the ones from the compound. It does not have a tortoiseshell cover, nor does he keep it rolled up in a little cylinder. Its leather bound covers are worn, and its pages are no longer crisp. The spine is creased from how frequently the book has been opened and closed.

Save for the fact that it's clearly not a new notebook though, it's in reasonably good condition. It's plain and not flashy at all. ]

There is no need to fill the entire page immediately.

[ He glances down at the piece of paper lying on the floor. Almost all the glass is collected on its surface. Those shards weigh it down, pinioning it against the ground. ]

I do not believe I could list enough items to fill the page, but... I think I would like to reach that point someday. It would be helpful to have a list, in case I should forget.

[ After all, Hong Lu knows there had been a time when he could not think of anything good for himself. Hong Lu knows about that hole in his chest, one that he's managed to mend for now. But should it be torn open again, it may be wise to have a list of all the things he could use to fill it again. ]