Wang Jingyuan leaned against the side wall of a restaurant. It was almost midnight, and the streets were completely deserted. Moonlight spilled across the street and elongated the shadows of nearby buildings. A little ways down the street, a string of lanterns swung gently on a tall wooden post—this world's version of a streetlamp.
She and Yan Qiufeng agreed to meet here at midnight and head over to the Zhou Manor together. Wang Jingyuan tugged at the collar of her tunic shirt. She bought a black outfit during the day—the shirt and the pants separately from different stores, of course—for this trip. She even took a square of black cloth from the He Manor supply room to tie around her face as a mask. Now she looked no different than the secret agents and assassins she used to watch in C-dramas.
