Between the dirt road and the low houses, Old Wu, dressed in a grey cloth shirt, walked ahead while Chen Ji followed closely behind, his bamboo hat lowered.
Old Wu was highly alert. After every two streets, he would seek an empty alley to wait momentarily. Only once he confirmed that no one was trailing behind did he continue on his way.
At this moment, the long-ringing bell of Guyuan City resounded again.
Old Wu stopped on a long street and looked up. Chen Ji also halted, and all the pedestrians on the street stopped to look towards the direction the bell came from.
The bell of Guyuan was different from the melodious ones in temples.
The heavy bell broke through the thin morning fog, like dark clouds tumbling overhead, making it hard to breathe.
Everyone waited for the bell to stop, but it just kept ringing.
Only after tolling thirty-six times did the echoes finally dissipate towards the edges of the city.
