At dusk, the evening summer wind seemed somewhat hot.
South of the city, No. 368 Guai Zi Alley.
As an old town, it still retains the architectural style of low walls around courtyards, where neighborhood children chase and play in the narrow alleys.
Zhang Fan arrived here following the address provided by Jiang Hu, and as he walked further in, images kept flashing through his mind.
He knew he had definitely been here before.
"Number 368... it's right here..."
Zhang Fan arrived in front of a small courtyard, the old wooden door was mottled, covered with traditional peach talismans, the copper ring in the lion's mouth collided with the wooden door, echoing with a "dong dong" sound.
"No one's here?"
Zhang Fan's gaze slightly tightened, knocking twice more.
"Who is it?"
