Dali Court Log · Chat

At the gates of the divine capital Luoyang, a round-faced young man was stopped by the guards. “What are you here for?” “L-Looking for someone.” “Who?” “My brother.” He handed over a crumpled piece of paper squeezed in his hand, which had a face drawn on it that looked a lot like him, just a bit thinner and with sharper eyes. The guard glanced at the drawing, then at him, and chuckled. “Are you drawing your brother or yourself?” “My brother! We look alike!” Laughing, the guard waved him in, then turned and muttered to his colleague, “Another one looking for someone. How many is that this month?” Meanwhile, in the dungeon of the Dali Temple, several servants were huddled together, trying to pass the buck. No one wanted to deliver food to the cell at the very end; the one who went in last time is still shivering when he talks. After arguing for a long time, they finally drew straws—an unlucky fellow held the shortest piece of straw, his face turning grayer than the sky outside. And Chen Shi—the round-faced boy who had just entered the city—was standing at the entrance of Dali Temple, looking up and reading a notice: “Hiring... s-serv...” He couldn't read. But he recognized that the word after “serv” looked a bit like “ant.” “Hiring servants!” He took a step inside, overjoyed. He had no idea what he was about to face. And at this very moment, at the deep end of the dungeon, a pair of golden eyes was impatiently waiting for dinner. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>