Jing Jiu did not knock. He reached out and pushed a blue brick half an inch into the wall.
It was a mechanism.
From behind the door came the faint sound of something hard rolling-his gaze could not penetrate the wooden door, but he knew that a smooth stone ball was traveling along a fixed track. It would travel a long way before dropping and smashing a large porcelain bowl.
A long time passed, but the wooden door still did not open.
He stood waiting on the stone steps, his expression as calm as ever.
The rain grew heavier, striking his bamboo hat and streaming off its edges like a waterfall in the dry season.
Because of the rain, passersby outside the alley hurried along. No one noticed him.
With a soft sound, the courtyard gate finally opened, revealing an old man.
The old man had a square face, straight brows, and bright eyes. His cheeks were slightly flushed, whether from drinking or excitement was unclear. He wore a thin gray robe with its buttons still undone, probably thrown on casually. He seemed somewhat hurried, and his eyes were full of questions and scrutiny as he looked at Jing Jiu.
Jing Jiu took out a wooden token and handed it over.
The old man did not dare take it. He bent down and leaned closer, examining it carefully for a long while.
Once he confirmed it was genuine, he dropped to both knees without hesitation, paying no heed to the ground already soaked by the rain.
"Get up," Jing Jiu said.
The old man rose and respectfully ushered him into the small courtyard, then followed a side corridor deeper inside.
There were people in the courtyard-a family, to be precise.
In the open reception hall, the family was eating, old