Now was midday, the prime time for a nap, and Zhiyan decided not to think about anything as she lay on her bed and slept.
The next day, the Mercenary Tavern opened for business. The sound of firecrackers echoed; the long-awaited crowd of mercenaries swarmed in, quickly filling up the first and second floors. The refined upper-floor parlor was not open to the public, but due to the overwhelming number of mercenaries outside, many gathered and waited, creating an incredibly bustling scene with various loud conversations, along with those there just for the spectacle.
Zhiyan sat in the upper-floor parlor, sipping tea while leisurely observing. Ye Wen and others had gone out, and Old Yang from downstairs was busy attending to the guests. Previously surrounded by people, she now found herself in a cold and quiet solitude that was somewhat uncomfortable.
