The morning fog in Qingxia Town has not yet cleared, and Shi En is squatting on the thatched roof of "Laifu Tea House" and counting the tiles. There was a gap in the thirty-seventh green tile, just enough to see the young lady splashing water at the door of the pawnshop opposite. When the lotus-colored skirt swept across the bluestone steps, he raised his head and took a sip of pear blossom white. As his Adam's apple rolled, the wine spilled on the washed blue shirt.
"Tsk, this drinker is possessed by Shen Teng." He wiped the corners of his mouth, and a half-cut nine-link ring carved in peach wood slipped out of his sleeve. The oil-paper bag brought from Mr. Li's wife's house in the south of the city last night was stuck to the back of her waist, and she could feel the square outline inside through the coarse cloth.
The tiles suddenly made a slight crisp sound.
