Just then, seven people were walking out of the Lingya Tea House.
Besides the three young men, there was a wealthy young lady and her maid, as well as a white-haired, deeply wrinkled old man who could barely walk, supported by a young servant.
Dusk was now falling, and many people were hurrying home. It was the peak time for customers to leave the teahouse.
The streets outside were filled with hurried pedestrians, and many street vendors were starting to pack up their stalls for the day.
Just then, panicked shouts erupted from not far away. "Make way! Make way!"
The shouts came from a young man carrying a massive pile of fabric that completely blocked his view. He had clearly overestimated his ability, thinking he could carry so much fabric at once.
However, dropping the fabric on the ground wasn't an option, so he could only hug the teetering pile tightly as he staggered forward.
