Inside a private room, a middle-aged man in black robes sat by the window.
He wore a wooden mask with a hollowed-out mouth. Between two fingers of his left hand, he held a smoldering burl-wood pipe, while his right hand lifted a celadon teacup. Instead of sipping, he gulped the tea down in one go, then set the cup back on the table with a satisfied sigh.
This was a Ghost Guard from the Ghost Market.
Chapter 102