In the residence of Prime Minister Zhang Jingbang of the Qi Dynasty.
A soft sedan chair silently stopped at the side door, and an official in plain clothes descended from the sedan, carefully surveying his surroundings. Assured that no one had noticed him, he tiptoed into the mansion's side entrance.
Zhang Jingbang had been waiting inside the mansion for some time. Upon seeing the man arrive, he quickly greeted him, "Minister Wang! Please come in."
The two seated themselves, and a servant presented them with tea.
This Minister Wang appeared quite aged, over fifty years old, with a face crossed by wrinkles and sparse whiskers. His countenance, which was already naturally grave, now seemed even more fraught with worry.
"Prime Minister Zhang! What are we to do, what are we to do!" exclaimed Minister Wang, in a state of utter disarray as if an ant on a hot pan.
