Falling Blossom Villa.
The quiet chamber was isolated from the drafty meeting hall, shielded by thick sandalwood panels and sound dampening barrier arrays.
The delicate fragrance of burnt medicinal agarwood drifted through the still air, mingling with the bitter, sharp scent of crushed spirit herbs and dried salve.
Huo Yue lay tucked beneath layers of embroidered crimson silk, her breathing deep, steady, and unbroken.
The terrifying, necrotic puncture wound through her sternum had been thoroughly knitted closed by the Nine Revolving Primordial Life Restoration Pill, but her spiritual meridians had been pushed past their natural thresholds.
Her core had been drained of ninety percent of its ambient flame essence, leaving her in a deep, restorative slumber.
Beside the wooden bedpost stood Shen Ying.
Her slender frame was draped in a plain white robe, her long sleeves pinned back with silver clips to expose pale, uncalloused forearms.
