Xin Yi stared at the feral lion, then at the bound vines, then up at the sky where she was pretty sure Mán Shū was currently sipping celestial tea and laughing at her misery.
"Argh," Xin Yi groaned, throwing her hands up in the air with a dramatic flair that made Qing Lin flinch.
"Not this again! Seriously? Is there a quota for world-ending plagues I need to fill? Can't my life be simple for one week? Just one? I want to build toilets! I want to teach hygiene! I want to argue about whether lions should wear pants! I do not want to deal with a spreading corruption plague that turns everyone into mindless murder-beasts!"
