"May I ask, sir, if your inn is accepting guests tonight?"
"No, we're full. Get lost."
"..."
"..."
This was the third group to leave the Summer Insect Pavilion.
They hadn't even entered when they regretfully turned away.
Yet, before being impatiently shooed away by the surly shopkeeper Zhao, they couldn't help but turn back for a glance at the guests sitting at a table in the corner of the empty tavern.
They departed dejectedly.
Inside the hall, Fan Yushu peeked at the group that had just left.
Including them, there had been three groups asking for entry within the span of a half-stick of incense. This shabby, remote little tavern was like a naked beauty inviting customers at the door, drawing wave after wave of strange visitors to this unvisited alley.
The first group that interrupted Zhao the shopkeeper and Zhao Rong's conversation earlier featured an unremarkable green-robed youth followed obediently by an old servant with white hair.
