The light from the lantern by the gate was blocked, and the inside of the entrance immediately grew dim. The screen wall was as white as snow, seeming to glow faintly in the darkness, yet at that moment, none of its details could be made out.
Pei Ling carefully swept his Spiritual Sense over the surroundings and walked farther in, step by step. Beyond the screen wall lay a small courtyard, with a large drum on either side, adorned with tassels and feathered ornaments that swayed gently in the night breeze.
At the center stood a great hall, its lattice windows glowing with lamplight.
His footsteps rang out particularly loudly in the courtyard. The entire Post Station was as silent as the grave, as though Pei Ling were its only occupant.
Pei Ling warily surveyed his surroundings. The courtyard was spacious, with bamboo and mulberry trees casting shade along the walls. The ground was paved with pebbles, and moss grew in the cracks. The scent of grasses and plants drifted through the air.
He looked around but found nothing out of the ordinary. Only then did he walk toward the great hall, step by step.
Like the Post Station's main gate, the hall's door was merely ajar, with a narrow crack left open. Through it, he could see that the interior was brightly lit and seemed quite spacious. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged, but there wasn't a soul in sight.
Creak.
Pei Ling swept the interior with his Spiritual Sense again and again, then flicked a thread of force through the air to open the door.
The light inside spilled out at once, revealing a vast hall before him.
Dozens of sets of tables and chairs were arranged in orderly rows. At a glance, the place was empty,