As dawn broke over the narrow alley leading to the hideout, the old man was already awake, moving quietly through the house. He opened the door to the study, where the boy was still sound asleep on the sofa. Not wanting to disturb him, the old man slipped out of the room and descended the stairs, heading to Fa Yinge's door.
In the hideout, no door was ever locked—such measures were pointless among a group of expert lock-pickers and would only tempt the nimble fingers of the golden fingers. Pushing the door open, the old man entered Fa Yinge's room. Unlike the boy, Fa Yinge was a seasoned thief; any unusual noise immediately put him on alert.
Seeing Fa Yinge wake instantly, the old man nodded approvingly and said, "Get up. Go fetch Ted. We need to see the boss."
"This early?" Fa Yinge asked, still groggy with sleep.
"Better to leave before everyone else wakes up. I don't want a repeat of yesterday's chaos," the old man replied.
"Understood," Fa Yinge said, leaping out of bed and hurrying out of the room. He returned a short while later, holding a set of clothes in his hand.
"The carriage is waiting outside. Ted says it's too deep into the alley to bring it in," Fa Yinge reported.
"Go wake up the boy," the old man instructed.
Fa Yinge nodded and went upstairs. Waking the boy wasn't difficult. Fa Yinge handed him the clothes and then moved to the window, not interested in watching a boy get dressed. He glanced outside, where the old man was whispering something to Ted, who nodded repeatedly.
"I'm ready," the boy said behind him. Fa Yinge turned to see the boy looking fresh and neat in his new clothes, the worry from the previous day seemingly washed away.
"Let's go," Fa Yinge said, leading the way.
Outside the alley, the carriage was ready. The boy climbed in after the old man and Fa Yinge. The carriage began to move, slowly making its way out of the city. Once outside the city gates, the carriage took a series of winding country roads rather than the main highway. The branches of trees brushed against the carriage as it passed, and inside, the three passengers remained silent.
The carriage traveled slowly, the road full of twists and turns, with frequent hills to ascend and descend. The boy quickly lost his sense of direction, praying silently that the driver wouldn't get lost. He knew that if they did, finding their way back would be nearly impossible.
The boy couldn't help but wonder why his new employer lived in such a remote and confusing place. If he ever had to run errands, it would be a nightmare just to learn the route. It would likely take months to memorize all the twists and turns.
Just as the boy's worries began to weigh on him, the carriage turned onto a well-maintained tree-lined avenue. The landscape opened up to reveal neat rows of lush, green fields. Spring had arrived, and the crops were growing vibrantly. The vast wheat fields swayed in the breeze, creating waves across the fields. Besides the wheat, there were fields of rapeseed, their fresh green leaves covering the ground like a thick, luxurious carpet, with no bare earth in sight.
In the sky above, birds flitted about, chirping happily as they searched for their first meal of the day. The carriage picked up speed along the avenue, passing through what was clearly a secluded area—there were no other carriages or even pedestrians in sight. After about fifteen minutes, the carriage finally came to a stop in front of a grand, luxurious estate.
As the boy stepped out of the carriage, his first impression was of whiteness—everything was white. The ground was covered in white gravel and rare white pebbles, the garden's trees and flowers were planted in beds edged with white brick, and the tall iron fence surrounding the estate was painted white. The mansion itself was a marvel of white marble, with nine towering columns of Carrara marble supporting a grand, white dome. The walls of the mansion were also stark white, either painted or built with naturally white bricks.
The most striking feature of the building was the large, white dome—a feature the boy had only seen before on the grand cathedral in Southport. Domes were beautiful but notoriously difficult and expensive to construct, which is why the wealthy merchants of Southport rarely bothered with them. Only the nobility, who seldom visited Southport, seemed to appreciate such architectural features. The boy's thoughts raced as he tried to guess the identity of his new employer, who must surely be a person of noble stature.
Feeling a bit nervous, the boy tugged at his clothes, straightening them as best he could. The old man pulled a long yellow silk cord hanging by the door, and a clear bell rang out. The door opened to reveal a middle-aged man dressed impeccably in a butler's uniform, with a stern expression on his face.
"Mr. Paem, the master has been expecting you in the study. However, I assume you haven't had breakfast yet. The master has instructed me to prepare it for you, so please enjoy your meal before meeting with him," the butler said, leading them to the kitchen.
As they walked through the mansion, the boy took in his surroundings with wide eyes. The interior was richly decorated, yet understated. The master clearly had no desire to flaunt his wealth, unlike the wealthy merchants in Southport who loved ostentatious decor and intricately carved furniture. Yet, the mansion itself was a masterpiece of elegance, like the precious artworks from distant lands that Mr. Matild used to admire. The boy remembered how Mr. Matild had said that the people of the East truly understood art, capable of creating beautiful treasures with simple, elegant lines.
In the kitchen, the layout was typical of a wealthy household. Several cooks were busy preparing food, and the air was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly cooked dishes. In the center of the kitchen stood a long table, laden with freshly sliced meat, prepared dough, and neatly washed vegetables.
At the butler's command, the cooks cleared a corner of the table, and the old man, Fa Yinge, and the boy took their seats. The cooks began to bring out steaming dishes from the stove.
"I wasn't sure when you would arrive, so the cooks prepared the food in advance and kept it warm in the steamers. It might not be as good as freshly made dishes, but I think it's worth it to avoid keeping the master waiting," the butler explained.
When Fa Yinge saw the first dish—a golden-brown roasted tuna sprinkled with onions and pepper—he was more than satisfied. The meal also included a portion of quail with shiitake mushrooms for each of them, and Fa Yinge's favorite, ham and eggs. This breakfast was just as good as the feast he'd had upon his release from prison.
Fa Yinge enjoyed the meal thoroughly. The boy, on the other hand, was too nervous to eat much. Despite the array of delicious dishes—many of which he had never had the chance to try—he only managed a few bites before leaving the rest for Fa Yinge to finish.
After breakfast, the butler led them to the study. The study was on the second floor, connected to the first by a spiral staircase made of redwood. At the entrance to the study, two large paintings hung on either side of the door. The paintings depicted the battle between the Angel of Dawn and the Night Demon. On the left, the Night Demon had defeated the Angel of Dawn, driving the angel westward in a chariot of the moon. On the right, the Angel of Dawn launched a counterattack at dawn, with the Archangel of Light riding a chariot of the sun, tearing through the Night Demon's army.
When the boy had worked at the shop, he had been captivated by the artwork from the East, which had fascinated him countless times. Now, standing before these two paintings, he felt the same sense of wonder.
Just as the boy was lost in the details of the paintings, the door to the study opened. He followed the old man inside.
The study was spacious, and what caught the boy's attention was the wall-to-wall bookshelves that lined three sides of the room. In one corner, there was a ladder, necessary to reach the highest shelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling. The most striking feature, however, was the wall without bookshelves—it had been replaced entirely with a massive pane of glass, letting in an abundance of natural light. The boy had never seen such a large sheet of glass before.
France did not produce glass of this size. Although there were a few glass workshops, none could make something like this. Such a large piece of glass could only have been custom-ordered from Yirei. But glass was fragile, and transporting a pane of this size would have been incredibly expensive. The boy couldn't imagine how much it had cost, but he was sure it was far more valuable than the porcelain dish he had broken. With each passing moment, the boy became more convinced that his new employer was indeed a person of great nobility.