A clap of thunder sounded in the distance. The terrain on this stretch of hillside was complex; even though a road had been built, the tier upon tier of steps was somewhat slippery, making one's footing feel unsteady.
"Milord, be careful!"
Wen Xunpeng opened an oil-paper umbrella and held it aloft, shielding Su Ziji from the rain.
"I'm fine." Su Ziji waved a hand. Having already reached the top, he first glanced at the sky. It was somewhat overcast, yet birds still seemed to be flying overhead. He stretched out a hand, seemingly in a lazy gesture, then could not help smiling. "The mountains abound in swift hawks; from time to time, their cries can be heard—come, let us go meet this Lord Zhang Dai!"
Rain pattered down. Though it was not heavy, the mountain vegetation was lush, and the sound of raindrops striking green leaves and withered branches made one feel somewhat vexed.
Of course, perhaps it was not the rain that vexed one, but the poor mood of the person listening to it.
A gaunt middle-aged man sat in a room with half a window open, lowering his head as he flipped through documents. His eyes narrowed as he read the words; even with a candle lit, he appeared to be straining somewhat.
This had originally been a dilapidated Taoist temple on the mountain. It could be seen from the foot of the mountain, and now it had been temporarily used as the imperial envoy's lodging.
Beyond the study lay the main hall, which had once housed idols. Due to years of disrepair, not only was the hall dilapidated, but the idols themselves had long since fallen into ruin. They had been moved away after the imperial envoy's party took up residence.
The emptied main hall was used