At dawn, Old Yao rose from his bed and slowly walked into the courtyard.
The water tank was already filled, and the ground of the courtyard had been swept clean, but Chen Ji was nowhere to be seen.
Old Yao looked up at the crows perched on the apricot tree, and the crow gestured with its feathery wing toward the gate.
His gaze traveled through the corridor to the outside of the medical hall, where he caught sight of Chen Ji holding a long bamboo broom, sweeping the stone pathway in front of Taiping Medical Hall.
The day before had been the Double Ninth Festival, and Anxi Street was littered with Cornelian and trash—only in front of Taiping Medical Hall was it spotless.
He asked in puzzlement, "What time did this lad get up?"
The crow cawed once.
"3:45 AM? Even earlier than the chickens," Old Yao looked around, "He's so efficient with his work, it's hard to find a reason to scold him."
The crow cawed again.
