"Creak."
Yang Ge gently pushed open the courtyard gate. The chill and loneliness that greeted him, together with the dim sight of a thick layer of dust covering everything, made him tense up again before he had even had a chance to relax.
He sighed and strode into the inner room with the Cold Moon Saber over his shoulder.
When he came back out, he had changed into coarse hemp clothes for heavy work.
He fastened his belt, fetched a carrying pole and buckets from the kitchen, shouldered them, and hurried out.
Before long, he returned with two buckets of clean water.
Once inside, he set down the carrying pole, turned to close the courtyard gate, then carried a bucket in each hand into the kitchen.
Soon, thin wisps of cooking smoke rose from the chimney.
With a large pot of water heating on the stove, Yang Ge arranged the firewood, then emerged from the kitchen wiping his hands. He picked up a broom and carefully swept inside and out twice, clearing away every bit of loose dust.
The moment he put down the broom, he fetched a basin of clean water without pausing and took a rag to the tables, chairs, doors, and windows...
As basin after basin of blackened water splashed into the weed-choked vegetable patch in the backyard, the dusty doors, windows, tables, and chairs finally regained their clean wood tones.
By then, the water in the iron pot had long since boiled. The rising steam mingled with the faint cooking smoke and drifted through the courtyard, dispelling its cold, lonely air.
Yang Ge hung up the washed rag, fetched a set of clean clothes from the inner room, then filled a bucket with hot water in the kitchen and carried it to the privy, where he