It was no illusion.
The place really had grown larger. The entrance had originally stood seventy or eighty feet from the main road, but now...
As far as he could see, the yellow dirt road was right on its doorstep.
He looked around again.
There were a dozen or so more tables, yet nobody seemed to care. Everyone simply carried on eating and drinking as though nothing had changed.
Seeing Zhou You emerge, the waiter immediately greeted him with a broad smile.
"Did you sleep well last night, sir?"
Zhou You answered somewhat awkwardly.
"Well enough, I suppose. But for some reason, there was a sudden racket in the middle of the night, and it woke me right up..."
The waiter tilted his head.
"A racket? I didn't hear anything... Ah, perhaps one of those martial artists was responsible. You know what they're like, sir..."
He glanced around, then lowered his voice after making sure nobody was watching him. "Unlike you, a veritable incarnation of the God of Literature, those martial artists are rough brutes, every last one of them. Ordinarily, we wouldn't be keen to serve them, but... Ah, the proprietor is ill, and we do have to make some money..."
Seeing his cautious manner, Zhou You found it grating.
Everyone in this entire inn is yours to slaughter as you please, yet you put on this act...
Who is it for?
Still, he played along for a few remarks before saying,
"By the way, I spent too long studying by candlelight yesterday and used up my candles. Could I trouble you to replenish them?"
The waiter narrowed his eyes, seemingly sensing something for a moment, then smiled.
"You really have used them up. You're an honest man, sir—you didn't lie about that. Unfortunately, we're running short ourselves. This