Old Guo, who was guarding the city, had just refilled his pot of tea and was about to heat up the two pancakes his wife had given him when he suddenly heard a noise.
He paused, pricked up his ears suspiciously and listened for a while, and was sure that the sound was someone knocking on the city gate.
Who wants to enter the city so late at night? He must be a drunk.
However, thinking about the soldiers from the Black Feather Camp who had been coming in and out frequently recently, Lao Guo had to be more vigilant.
Old Liu, who was on guard with him, went to the gate camp to take over, but the time for changing shifts had not yet arrived. Old Guo picked up the fire tongs placed by the wall and carefully approached the side door next to the city gate.
He opened the iron window on the side door a little and looked out, and saw an old man with a hunched back standing outside the city gate.
The light outside was dim, and he could only see that the other person was wearing a thick brown cloak that reached the ground. Some silver hair and beard could be faintly seen under the rough cloak.
Hey, why is it an old man?
"The city gates are closed today. Please find an inn nearby to rest for the night and then enter the city tomorrow morning."
Old Guo cleared his throat and began to think about how to persuade this man to leave in a nice way.
"good."
The old man in brown readily followed the advice, turned around and limped away, seemingly not at all dissatisfied or frustrated about not being able to enter the city.
Old Guo was stunned.
You should know that it takes an incense stick of time to walk to the nearest post station from the city, and by then the sky is as dark as ink, so even the official road is difficult to travel on.
Turning around and closing the iron window, Lao Guo gradually felt a little reluctant.
He had been guarding the Yumen Gate in the south of the city for some years. Quecheng was the capital, after all, and he had seen all sorts of people. If the other party had been a young, unreasonable, and bullying person, he would have been completely pissed off. But the other party was quite old, and looked so honest and submissive, which made him feel a little sympathetic. He also felt that they were all poor people, so why bother to make things difficult for each other?
With determination, Lao Guo opened the iron window again and tried to call out to the old man in brown clothes. But when he looked around, there was no one in the dark space outside the city gate.
A hundred steps away, on the city wall, a cloaked black figure moved silently.
His movements were slow, yet almost counterintuitive. The steep walls of Que City were almost perpendicular to the ground, yet he moved his legs as if strolling leisurely in the garden.
After a few dozen steps, he reached the top of the high wall, and after a few more steps, he was already inside the wall.
The city wall that was more than ten feet high seemed like a joke in front of him.
The streets were deserted late at night and no one witnessed this strange scene.
The old man in brown clothes lightly brushed off his clothes, as if he had just walked down a few steps, and then he staggered forward again.
The evening breeze blew up his wide cloak, revealing a hidden glimpse underneath.
Thick or thin, long or short, new or old.
Countless ribbons woven from plain hemp are intertwined and tangled together like the roots of a living tree.
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