During the Shi Chen hour, the sky was still pitch dark. In winter, it always gets light late, and at this moment, only the night watchman would come out.
The old night watchman yawned as he carried a copper gong and grumbled, "It's just me, coming out to earn some silver by night watch, at this time, not a single ghost on the street!"
Then he began to walk along the long street, beating his gong. He had to avoid the main roads, as those were reserved for officials heading to the court. He walked freely elsewhere.
By the time he had walked back and forth once, it was already the Mao hour.
Yet the sky showed no sign of light.
At this time, street vendors selling breakfast began to get up and move. After all, those attending court will finish shortly, and those working will need to head to their duties; they should start moving in half an hour.
Walking to Anfu Alley, he saw Old Man Liu, the vendor selling fried dough sticks, pushing his rickety cart chugging along.
