In the late Qing Dynasty, the fog in Shanghai’s foreign concessions always had a clinging, unpleasant quality, as if it could seep right into your bones. Lu Xiaotang, the second daughter of the Lu Escort Agency, stood in the mist, listening to the bustle in the streets and alleys. Her fingers unconsciously brushed the specially made throwing dart at her waist. She was blind, but her hearing was several times sharper than an ordinary person’s. From the weight and rhythm of someone’s footsteps, she could tell who they were and why they had come.
The chairs and tables in the main hall of the Lu Escort Agency were arranged in perfect order, yet the room was steeped in tension. Chen Mo, the agency’s deaf-mute accountant, was gesturing anxiously, trying to convey something to Lu Xiaotang. He was slender, and habitually wore a gray cloth robe. His hair was neatly tied back, and round spectacles perched on his pale face, their lenses framing shrewd eyes.
