The ancient locust tree in the back garden of the Xuan'an Bureau cast a web-like shadow under the moonlight. Pi Yanlin leaned against the trunk, finishing off the last half of a sesame cake, too lazy to wipe the oil stains off his blue-cloth cuffs.
He stared at the small, tightly shut wooden door in the corner of the courtyard, listening as the footsteps inside went from slow to hurried—Liu Ruyan had arrived.
"Constable Pi." The door hinges creaked softly, and Liu Ruyan’s voice was lighter than the night air.
Chapter 197