Han Yu returned to his courtyard just as the final slivers of sunlight dipped beneath the horizon, casting warm orange streaks across the distant mountain peaks. He closed the courtyard gate behind him with a soft clack.
With a wary glance at the sky, Han Yu made his way back inside his modest wooden residence. The familiar smell of sandalwood incense and faint herbal remnants hung in the air, mingling with the soft creaks of old floorboards beneath his feet.
After locking the main door and sealing the windows, Han Yu walked straight to the far corner of the room. This wasn't the same floorboard under which the vial of liquid flames was hidden—no, that one was farther across the room.
Instead, he knelt by the opposite wall, near the old wooden shelves stacked with blank scrolls and unused books.
