Zuo Qing stood quietly before the door of the low house, a straight blade hanging at his waist. After a long silence, he finally raised his hand and knocked.
Knock, knock, knock!
A moment later, an aged figure with a head full of silver hair opened the door.
"Hm?" The old man seemed somewhat surprised to see Zuo Qing. "Little Zuo... oh, no, Commander Zuo, weren't we supposed to have an online meeting? We waited for you in the video call for ages. Why did you suddenly come all the way here?"
Zuo Qing said nothing. He merely lowered his head and stared silently at the old man.
In the desolate, empty countryside, only the distant crowing of roosters echoed through the air.
The old man met Zuo Qing's gaze for a moment, then smiled helplessly. Turning around, he slowly said, "Come in and have a seat."
Zuo Qing rested his right hand on the hilt of his straight blade and followed the old man into the low house.
The furnishings inside were better than the exterior suggested. Simple, practical furniture was arranged neatly throughout the room, and the poured gray cement floor was spotless. As far as the eye could see, the only modern electronic devices were a digital television and a special computer protected by an encryption key.
That computer was for internal Night Watchmen use only, and it was still a model from more than a decade ago.
Zuo Qing sat on a stool beside the square table. The old man, unhurried, went into the kitchen and brewed a cup of tea with a bright red thermos. He then sat across from Zuo Qing and handed him the cup.
"I don't have any good tea here. You know that. Just make do with this." Looking at the