Late at night, all was still. Moonlight flowed like water, spilling across the flagstone path in the Qingmu Institute backyard.
Peng Zhen stood in the Qingmu Institute backyard, took a deep breath, then raised his hand and lightly knocked on the door.
"Knock, knock, knock..."
The sound was especially clear in the silent night.
A rustling came from the backyard. After a moment, the courtyard door opened.
Li Baichuan, dressed in gray cloth sleepwear, poked half his body out. His hair was slightly tousled, and his sleepy eyes were bleary.
When he saw who stood outside, a trace of surprise flickered through his clouded eyes.
"Nephew Peng?"
Li Baichuan showed a hint of puzzlement. "In the middle of the night, instead of enjoying yourself at your Kuntu Institute, what are you doing running to my rundown little yard?"
Peng Zhen forced a smile and cupped his hands. "Uncle Li, forgive me for disturbing your cultivation. It is truly because... something has been weighing on my mind, leaving me tossing and turning sleeplessly. That is why I rashly came to visit."
Li Baichuan yawned, waved a hand, and stepped aside. "Come in and talk. The dew is heavy outside. I'm old, no longer good for much—I can't stay up late."
Peng Zhen hurried into the courtyard. Its furnishings remained simple, and the air carried a faint blend of medicinal herbs and old wood.
He flattered him, saying, "Uncle Li, you are concealing your brilliance and returning to simplicity—an example for our generation."
Li Baichuan shot Peng Zhen a sidelong glance and said irritably, "Enough, enough. Stop putting tall hats on me. You didn't come in the dead of night just to kiss up to these old bones, did you? If you have something to say, say it."
Peng Zhen cleared his