Long, Long Ago
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
No. 221 B, Baker Street was a graveyard. The fog suffused the gloomy night. This was the lowest place in Avalon. After summer ended, the wind and currents from ocean would be gone, and this place would be covered by mist. It was extremely hazy, even during the daytime. After tonight’s rain had pierced through the fog, it seemed to become thinner. The rain fell down on the ground with audible pitter-patters. The decayed soil full of water became muddy like a bubbling quagmire.
The carriage stopped before the graveyard. Ghosthand opened the door for Ye Qingxuan. "He is waiting for you in the yard," Ghosthand said. "Don’t keep him waiting too long."
"How long do you think I’m going to take for such a short distance?" Ye Qingxuan glanced at Ghosthand, put on his hunting hat, and strutted into the cemetery.