"Thank you, Upper Envoy, thank you, Upper Envoy!"
Old Master Zhao knelt repeatedly, tears of gratitude falling, as he backed out of the room with a pause at each step.
The courtyard was silent.
Only after he had moved far from the side chamber did Old Master Zhao straighten his back. He looked towards the large figure of the steward Lin Guiyong, hiding in the shadows, and quietly raised a single index finger.
"One?"
Lin Guiyong was overjoyed and hurriedly ran to pack up his valuables, preparing to flee.
All the leaves had fallen from the two jujube trees in the middle of the courtyard, and the setting sun pierced through the gaps in the branches, creating a mottled light.
He reached out and snapped off a withered branch, rubbing it between his hands over and over.
