When he returned to the cabin, the hour of the Dog had passed, and it was deep into the second watch of the night. Looking up, he saw the moon full and bright, traversing thousands of miles. Indeed, it was the darkest under the canopy of trees; such moonlight, yet not a hint of brightness reached there.
Along the way, he had used nearly ten torches. He placed the tenth, still unburned, torch by the bluestone path five zhang from the cabin, leaving only half a torch left.
As he was picking up stones nearby to secure the torch and to prevent sparks from falling on the grass and starting a fire, the dog glanced at him lightly at the cabin door, yawned, and went back inside the cabin to rest.
Perhaps the days without the duties of a War God were too leisurely; whenever there was a pause, it felt overwhelmingly sleepy, too lazy to be alert all the time.
