Capital City · Hour of the Tiger
Following the Former Wei system, the Capital City generally had no curfew. But it was already the fourth watch; the streets had long since fallen silent, and every household had extinguished its lamps.
The narrow roads before the residences lay utterly black. Whenever dark clouds happened to cover the moonlight, one could scarcely see one's hand before one's face. Walking through them felt as though one had crossed into a separate world from the bright lanterns in the distance.
At this hour, even hailing an ox cart was exceedingly difficult in the Capital City. The ox carts that had clustered along the streets at night had long since been driven home by their drivers.
Clang! Clang!
"The sky is dry, things are parched—beware the fire!"
Through the streets and alleys, the night watchman carried a lantern and struck his bronze gong, drawing out his cry. He had only just made a round, and the insects and cicadas, briefly quieted, suddenly began chirping again, their calls rising in pitch until they became unbearably grating. Some drunken Han who had just emerged from a tavern was so irritated by the noise that he began cursing under his breath.
At that moment, someone rushed from the end of an alley toward the light and slammed into him with a bang.
"Rushing off to announce a death?" The drunken Han staggered at the intersection. Having nearly fallen from the collision, he could not help breaking into loud curses.
Judging by his clothes, the man seemed to be a servant from a wealthy household. He was around twenty, of average build, and quite swift, though his forehead was drenched in sweat.
The man did not stop. In the blink of an eye, he had run far away.
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