Hearing Pan Long's voice transmission, Gu Wen paused for a moment but did not look up. As though he had heard nothing, he kept his attention on his business.
Before he knew it, the shen hour was nearly over—five in the afternoon—and the sun was sinking westward. Only then did he finish his work, pack up his stall, and arrange everything on a hand-pushed wheelbarrow. With its strap over his back, he pushed the cart toward the city gate like any poor craftsman.
In the seventh and eighth months, South Xia City's gates closed around the fourth quarter of the you hour, about six in the evening. After the main gates shut, passage was possible only through the side gates, and no one could enter or leave without permission.
An ordinary craftsman had no hope of obtaining special permission, so he had to hurry.
At the second quarter of the you hour, half past five, he joined the long line of people leaving the city and slowly made his way out of South Xia City. Pushing his battered cart, he headed farther south.
Lodging in South Xia City was expensive. Poor craftsmen like him usually stayed in nearby places such as Guanmen Village or Wuli Village. Some simply spent the night in a post station's shed and saved even that little bit of money.
The weather was still fairly warm, and the nights were not cold. As long as they had enough to eat, curling up for the night on a thick cloth spread over the ground was bearable.
Gu Wen pushed his wheelbarrow along at an unhurried pace, passing Guanmen Village and then Wuli Village. After walking for well over an hour, he finally reached Shili Village, where he stopped to find lodging.
There were plenty of people like