Shops destroyed like this were a common sight, so it was nothing to be surprised about.
Seeing no movement inside, and given the late hour, Cheng Zongyang knew it wasn't a good idea to shout.
He glanced left and right, then easily vaulted over the wall into the backyard. But the next moment, he saw several people inside armed with Firewood Knives and wooden clubs. They were staring nervously and silently at the back gate, as if guarding against vagrants trying to break in.
When they saw someone actually vaulting over the wall, their expressions changed. Just as they were about to charge at Cheng Zongyang with their makeshift weapons, he spoke first.
"Is Li Ze here? I'm his friend."
Hearing the familiar name, and especially the word "friend," the men stopped. The middle-aged man in the lead asked with suspicion and uncertainty:
"Who are you?! What do you want with my son?!"
The leader was a rather portly middle-aged man, armed with an iron pitchfork, and his tone was wary.
