At the gates of the high-walled estate, scraps of spirit money still lodged in the gaps between the street's stone paving. Several servants stood on either side with their heads bowed, scarcely daring to breathe. Three wealthy men in brocade robes sighed and paced anxiously, looking toward the far end of the street from time to time.
They sighed, made another circuit, and muttered about why the expert they had invited still had not arrived.
Everyone they had hired before had been a fraud. Some had bluffed and swindled them; others had fled at the sight of the gates. A true expert was hard to find.
If this dragged on, no one in the entire lineage would be left alive. They had finally secured an introduction through powerful connections, calling in favors accumulated over the years before an expert agreed to visit. Heat shimmered visibly in the air. They had lost count of how many circuits they had made, and their sweat-soaked collars clung to their necks, chafing.
Suddenly, wheels rattled in the distance, and a carriage slowly approached.
The three hurriedly wiped the sweat from their faces and went to meet it.
They had barely run any distance before the backs of their waists were drenched. They could feel beads of sweat trickling down the grooves of their spines.
The steward hastily brought a jug of water. Abandoning all ceremony, the three took it and gulped with their heads tipped back, finally quenching the fire in their throats.
The carriage came to a stop.
The three shouted in hoarse voices edged with sobs.
"Master... you're finally here... please save us!"
A middle-aged man dressed as a scholar stepped down from the carriage. His blue robe was somewhat worn, and a quiet composure rested between his brows.
Before he had