In the compound, Alex sat on a bamboo chair in the courtyard, looking up at the star-filled night.
Without the veil of modern industry, the sky was dazzling, a deep velvet stage embedded with countless points of light, each one shining like a tiny gem.
Tonight, Lucy and Nathan were out assisting him to sell water, leaving him alone with Mr. Hartwell in the compound. The two of them drank tea and conversed quietly.
By their dialogue, Alex had a clearer idea of this world. It was not far from the ancient histories he had studied; rigid social hierarchies, a deep-seated bureaucracy, and an imperial examination system by which one ascended the ranks.
City life was bustling, with active trade, master craftsmen, and every sort of entertainments.
Prior to the famine, Ironhold though distant from the capital had been a thriving location.
The theatres and performance halls did well, and music and drama were a part of daily amusement.
Mr. Hartwell's eyes wandered back into the past.
