The ancient town was still the same ancient town, its streets still the same few streets.
Even the streetlights remained dim, providing only the most basic illumination.
The roadside shops had mostly turned off their lights and closed for the night. Some had even put up wooden shutters to match the town's old-fashioned character, leaving everything pitch-black.
Yet when the three intruders stopped on the narrow street, they discovered that the road before them no longer looked anything like it had when they arrived:
The streetlights were still dim, and the narrow street was still quiet, but some of the shops had changed.
The ordinary storefronts from daytime shimmered with faint, visible halos. The patterns on the lintels, window lattices, and signboards seemed to have come alive.
The Clay Figurine Shop's doors stood wide open. Inside, the armored warriors on display had phosphorescent stones in their eyes emitting an eerie blue light as they gripped their halberds and stared at the intruders.
A little maid in a ruqun dress set down her teapot, then raised scissors and a velvet-cutting knife with fingers carved from bamboo strips, aiming them at the trio.
There were also tiny wooden-and-metal creatures no larger than a palm, shaped like civets. One by one, they hopped to the doorway, arched their backs at the intruders, as though they might pounce at any moment—
Ganoderma Hall, the pickled vegetable shop, had lost its enormous pickle jar. A bitter yet strangely fragrant scent of medicinal herbs drifted out with the night wind and wound around them.
Against the wall stood a row of antique medicine cabinets, each tiny drawer labeled in fine small script: Cloud Dream Marsh, Bone-Joining Root, Three-Leaf Ghost Needle Grass, Moonlight Dew—
Further ahead, Seven-Treasure Smithing, the silver jewelry shop, had somehow become brightly lit.