At night, a breeze had started in the small courtyard.
The doors of the medicine shop were already closed, and the lanterns in the yard were lit up.
Yin Zheng asked Du Changqing for a few old lanterns, which she cleaned with a handkerchief until they were spotless, hanging them under the eaves of the four corners of the courtyard. As darkness fell, a layer of dim yellow was cast on the bluestone ground.
The moon shone like silver, lighting up the small courtyard with a snowy brightness, and in front of the stone table at its center, a lamp was burning.
Lu Tong sat in front of the stone table, pounding medicine at a leisurely pace.
The jar for the medicine was silver, engraved with luxurious and intricate Bao Xianglian branch patterns. The medicine hammer, which was also made of silver, made a crisp ringing sound as it hit the sides of the jar through the stillness of the night.
