The old teahouse in the back alley of the Xuan'an Bureau was fragrant with freshly brewed jasmine. Pi Yanlin curled up in a bamboo chair against the window, his left foot resting on a narrow stool, holding half a osmanthus pastry between the fingertips of his right hand.
His eyelids were half-drooped, but his ears were perked up. At the next table, two constables were discussing in low voices the headless corpse case at the west city's potter's field, their spittle splashing on the rims of their coarse porcelain bowls and making the jasmine petals floating in the teacups spin in a circle.
"Brother Pi?" The young tea server walked over with a covered bowl of tea, a slip of yellow paper pressed on top of the saucer. "A gentleman in a black cloak just handed this to me, saying it's an urgent dispatch from the palace."
Chapter 176