Click, clack…
It was noon, and the sound of horse hooves appeared outside Dye Workshop Street again.
Ye Jingtang slowly led his big horse through the street, holding the book and painting scroll wrapped in silk in his hand. Along the way, he pondered over saber techniques. The bird was chirping, probably chatting about the great beauty they had just met.
At noon, the sun was too scorching. There were no craftsmen on the street, and Double Osmanthus Alley was even more deserted.
As soon as Ye Jingtang led the horse into the alley, he stopped his train of thought. He looked around and saw that the courtyard was clean, and the bed sheets and bedding he had washed in the morning had been put away.
The door and windows of the west wing were open. There was a small desk inside but no bed.
The kitchen was neat and tidy, and there was no one inside. The door and windows of the main room were closed, and there was no sound inside.
