Hu Xiaotian noticed something about the Chengen Residence that set it apart from other places. It had three successive courtyards, but the farther inward he went, the higher the enclosing walls became. Thus, the deeper he ventured, the more oppressive the buildings felt. The young eunuch stopped at the third gate and pointed toward the two-story pavilion ahead. "He's inside. Go in yourself, sir."
Hu Xiaotian nodded and looked up at the pavilion. Though it had only two stories, each was so tall that the building stood as high as an ordinary four-story tower. Its windows were small, and its staircase was outside. A lantern hung at the foot of the stairs, swaying in the wind. Its orange glow added not a trace of warmth to the chill night; instead, it made the surroundings seem indescribably strange.
Every room on the first floor was pitch-black and apparently unoccupied. Hu Xiaotian approached the stairs and heard a shrill voice from above. "Look up!"
Hu Xiaotian raised his head but saw no one. Yet the voice had unmistakably belonged to the old eunuch An Dequan, so he climbed the stairs. They were steep and narrow. He disliked the layout of the Chengen Residence; from the moment he had entered its gates, the oppressive atmosphere had only grown heavier.
Upon reaching the second floor, he saw a gaunt figure standing with his back to him on the northern side of the viewing terrace, gazing out alone at something. He wore an ordinary gray robe, and his loose, graying hair stirred in the night wind. There was something uncanny about his entire presence.
Hu Xiaotian stopped about ten feet away and said softly, "Elder An!"
The old man gave a hum of acknowledgment without turning around. His left hand habitually formed an orchid-finger gesture,