Around the time of the Yin hour, bustling sounds came from Shen Qinglan's courtyard.
The sound of people talking and the cries of livestock rang out.
Shen Qinglan leaned against the head of the bed holding a quilt, her eyes unfocused, her expression vacant.
The room was dim, but outside it was brightly lit.
The shed had been set up during the day.
Now was the time for slaughtering the livestock.
"Qingzhu, hurry and get someone to bring out the ginger and garlic."
"Where's the basin?" someone shouted, "Get me a large basin."
"The hot water's ready, bring the chickens and ducks over."
"Where's Mrs. Shen? Quickly get someone to bring the vegetables."
...
The people in the courtyard were almost dizzy with busyness, sometimes looking for people, sometimes looking for basins, making quite the lively scene.
Shen Qinglan didn't know how long she sat there dazed, only until the door was knocked did she slowly get out of bed.
"Qinglan, Qinglan!"
