Treasure Pavilion stood on the busiest street in the eastern part of the city.
The three-story pavilion featured carved beams and painted rafters. Above its entrance hung a black plaque with golden lettering, the strokes vigorous and forceful. It was said to have been written by the top scholar of the previous dynasty.
The steps outside had been polished until they gleamed. Two attendants stood on either side of the entrance, dressed in matching blue short outfits, their backs ramrod straight.
Just as Zhou Qi and Yang Zhenshan reached the entrance, someone came out to greet them.
Shi Donglai.
He was around fifty, slightly plump, fair-skinned, with a neatly trimmed goatee.
He wore a dark purple brocade robe of excellent material, though its style was understated rather than ostentatious.
The way he walked was rather interesting. His back was slightly bent, and his steps were quick and short, as if he were hurrying somewhere, yet also as if he were making way for others.
"Mr. Yang!" Shi Donglai cupped his hands from afar, his voice booming, the smile on his face so sincere that it was as though he had spotted his own brother. "And this is... Guard Zhou? I have long admired you, long admired you!"
He hurried over in a few strides, grabbed Yang Zhenshan's hand, and gave it a firm shake. Then he turned to Zhou Qi with the same enthusiasm. "I truly apologize! The last few times Young Master Qing came, I was genuinely too ill to rise from bed. I lay there for over half a month, until my bones went soft from sleep. Today, when I heard Young Master Qing had sent people over, I had to force myself up to welcome you!"
His posture was lower than the dust.
His back was bent,