The moon hung high, and the wooden door of the Treasury Pavilion creaked as it swayed in the night breeze.
Pi Yanlin dropped his bamboo cot onto the bluestone floor, a smell of mildew mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of antique bronze. As he lay down, the bamboo slats pressed painfully into his lower back, yet he squinted in contentment—this was the precise location the System had designated for his check-in. He couldn't be wrong.
"System, start check-in." He muttered with his eyes closed, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against a splinter on the edge of the cot.
Chapter 161