Night falls, a myriad of household lamps come alive. Located beside the Li River, one particular three-section residence is brightly lit, yet the voices within are desolate and few.
"Changkong, are you sure you want to stay here?" Qi Qian looked at the man, almost merging with the dusk, and asked, "Though this place is peaceful, it is after all a bit small."
Yu Changkong didn't turn around and said, "It's merely a temporary shelter to live in. I also do not like having too many people attend to me. A small courtyard is enough."
"But..."
"Besides, what difference does it make where a blind and useless man like me lives?" Yu Changkong's voice was faint and cold.
Qi Qian choked on his words and said, "Master Buqiu will surely cure your eye illness."
Yu Changkong didn't continue the conversation, as if he had little hope.
