Before dawn arrived upon the empty streets of Beijing, humidity levels were high and the weather was cool. There were long intervals between cars driving past. Qiao Anhao stood by the side of the road for an awfully long time before she could hail a taxi. Eventually, she hailed one, got in, and requested to be taken to Mian Xiu Garden.
When the car reached it, she paid the driver and ran out before even collecting her change.
The passcode to Mian Xiu Gardens hadn't changed.
The place looked as if nobody had visited it in a long time. The fallen flowers on the courtyard floor had become muddy and tattered. As Qiao Anhao stepped on top of them, the leaves produced a crisp, crunching sound.
