In a room at the Star Emperor Hotel, the curtains were drawn almost shut, leaving only a narrow gap.
Afternoon sunlight slipped through it, cutting a thin streak of light across the floor.
Xu Yanli leaned against the window frame, a cup of tea in his hand.
The tea had long since gone cold, but he hadn't taken a single sip.
"Your Highness." The door creaked open, and Lezheng Ling slipped inside, speaking in a hushed voice. "The coffin is ready. It's made of genuine golden-thread nanmu, built to the specifications you gave. Not a bit of it is fake."
Xu Yanli nodded and set the teacup on the windowsill. Its base tapped against the wood with a soft clink. "Let's go."
He had changed into plain clothes. He left the Jade Fan on the table and wore nothing at his waist but an ordinary blue cloth belt.
Lezheng Ling froze for a moment. He wanted to ask, "Why didn't you bring your fan?" but swallowed the question before it left his lips.
Long Xiaoyao had been waiting at the door for some time.
He still wore his mask, but today he had changed into a dark gray robe. His presence was heavier than usual, making him seem like a taciturn old butler.
The three of them slipped out through the hotel's side entrance without attracting anyone's attention.
The streets of Star Luo City were as lively as ever.
An old man selling candied hawthorns shouted at the top of his lungs. A few older children came racing out of an alley after a yellow dog, their laughter ringing bright and clear.
Xu Yanli walked in front. His pace was unhurried, but his eyes were fixed on the distant horizon.
The Duke of White Tiger Mansion occupied more than half