Night.
Qin Yuesheng leaped across the rooftops, quickly arriving at the Cyan Yang Inn. Just as he was about to enter, an elderly voice suddenly called out from above, "Is that Young Master Qin?"
The speaker's concealment skills weren't bad. Qin Yuesheng looked up to see, on the top floor of the inn, an old beggar holding a wine jug and a chicken leg, gazing down at him.
Qin Yuesheng immediately cupped his hands and said, "I don't know what business brought you to leave that letter for me, sir."
"No need to be so polite. I'm just an old beggar, not some revered elder. Young Master Qin, just call me Old Beggar." The man grinned. "Come on up and let's talk."
Qin Yuesheng jumped easily to the top floor of the inn. Under the moonlight, their shadows stretched long across the tiles.
