After Road Pavilion lifted its curfew, the Welcome Inn began closing even later.
Zhao Hong followed Zhang Erniu, rushed off his feet from noon until midnight. Only when the calls for tea and water from the guest rooms finally stopped did he step into the little dark room near the stables...
Lying on the hard, narrow bed in that low, dark room, where even the air reeked of horse piss and dung, Zhao Hong clutched his straw-stuffed quilt and sobbed soundlessly, his back and legs aching from exhaustion.
At that moment, he too fell into a daze remarkably similar to Yang Ge's all those years ago. Zhao Hong, oh, Zhao Hong, how did you sink to this?
Bang, bang, bang.
Someone pounded hard on the battered wooden door.
Zhao Hong raised his tear-streaked face and looked over, seeing a little warm lamplight spill through the cracks.
He guessed who it was and forced his voice into its usual tone. "Who is it?"
Zhao Miao's clear, firm voice came from outside. "Open the door!"
Zhao Hong said, "We... I've already retired. Whatever it is, leave it until tomorrow!"
Zhao Miao remained unmoved. "Open the door!"
Furious, Zhao Hong slapped the hard bedboards and shouted, "You lowly... have you come to mock your prince?"
Although he corrected himself quickly, Zhao Miao still understood what he had meant to call her. Anger crept into her voice. "Are you opening it or not?"
Unable to win against her, Zhao Hong got up, hastily pulled on his clothes, slipped into his cloth shoes, and reached the door in two strides to draw the bolt.
Creak.
The door opened. Her expression cold, Zhao Miao walked straight into the little room with an oil lamp in one hand and a food box in the other, without so