Guardian
The fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, before dawn.
Night owls of all sorts had already returned to their nests. Even the streets of Dragon City had begun to empty out, with only the occasional chirp of an insect coming from the grass—intermittent and jittery, sounding startled by its own noise.
At two-thirty in the morning, the dew fell, and the air turned damp.
Damp, and clammy.
Whether it was the wind or not, shadows of something seemed to sway in the corners. Walking down the street, one couldn't shake the feeling of being watched from behind.
It was at this ungodly hour that Guo Changcheng, holding his notice in hand, stepped into No. 4 Guangming Road.Faça login para continuar a conversa.