"Tweet, tweet, tweet." The morning sun shines through the thin clouds over the City of Knowledge. Unnamed birds weave between houses, leaving waves of noisy calls. On the street, hurried passersby gather into a flowing stream, the sounds of wheels and hoofs composing a busy symphony.
In contrast to the bustling street, it's tranquility inside No. 6, Fox Street. In the lush green courtyard, not a soul can be seen. Even the maid sisters who clean up every morning have disappeared. Only a few sparrows chirp high in the oak tree, signaling the arrival of a new day. And if you carefully step outside the courtyard, pass the mansion and reach the backyard, you can see something unimaginable.
