The moon was white as frost; the cultivation room at the farthest northern end of the Outer Court was silent and still.
Compared to other crude dwellings of the Outer Court, this cultivation room was even more dilapidated. It was the oldest structure in the Outer Court, standing unnoticed like the weeds that had taken root here long before Qiu Chuzi established the Outer Court, yet it stubbornly remained in existence.
The thatched roof, shaped like a chicken coop, and the worm-eaten plank door were riddled with holes the size of fists.
Occasionally, a cricket leaping out of the clump of grasses would perch on the doorframe, peering inside, only to see pitch darkness; neither sunlight nor moonlight could penetrate this room.
The cultivation room was like a black hole in the depths of the universe, absorbing all the light that tried to break in.
