The hoofbeats of the Xuanjia Guard tapped against the bluestone pavement like fragments of shattered jade. Pi Yanlin dangled his legs as he sat under the porch of the Xuan'an Bureau, holding half a piece of osmanthus cake in his hand.
Gu Qinghuan's Xiuchun Saber scabbard struck the doorframe with a soft *clack*—her habitual gesture whenever she felt irritated.
"Those grey-robed devotees stretch all the way from the West Market to the South City Gate." She pulled out the silver hairpin binding her hair, letting her loose black tresses cascade down to her waist. "They're holding wooden tablets of Lord Saint Sovereign, chanting things like 'the rearrangement of karma is the Heavenly Way.' Even Old Zhang who sells candied hawthorns is joining in."
Chapter 206