Jiang Cheng's gaze lingered on the rickshaw puller's shoes for a moment, and his brows furrowed slightly.
At the entrance to a nearby alley stood several battered tables. A huge black iron kettle sat on the ground over a fire, white steam puffing from its spout.
A few people sat scattered around the tables in tattered clothes, waving palm-leaf fans. One of them was reading a newspaper. Rough ceramic bowls sat on the table, and every so often someone picked one up and gulped down a drink. It looked like a rather makeshift roadside tea stall.
At the same time, everyone noticed a sign hanging on the wall beside the iron gate. It bore the words "Su Manor."
It seemed the owner of the residence was surnamed Su.
The man who looked like a butler walked up to the iron gate, clenched his fist, and knocked.
Jiang Cheng noticed that there was something odd about the way he did it. First he knocked twice, slowly, then paused before knocking twice more in quick succession, like a secret signal exchanged by spies.
The iron gate almost immediately opened a crack, revealing half a face behind it.
A broad-faced, muscular man stared at them warily. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was powerfully built, with bulging muscles on either side of his neck. He wore coarse cloth clothes and was probably a servant serving as a guard.
"Don't be nervous, it's me." The man who looked like a butler smiled obsequiously. "These people are guests invited by my master. They're here to treat him. I personally brought them from the police station. There's no problem."
Though the butler had said that, the man remained on guard. His sharp, hawklike gaze swept over them, and it was only after about ten seconds that