"I don't care about pain," Ji'an stated flatly, the image of Wangchen and Zhiwei holding hands providing all the motivation she would ever need. "I only care about results. And my aesthetic."
"Spoken like a true, vain, arrogant little monster," Jiu Zui laughed loudly, taking a long drink. "Alright. Get some sleep, Ji'an. Because at first light, I am going to put you through absolute hell."
An hour later, the Drunken Sovereign had returned to his hammock, resuming his earth-shaking snores.
Lin Ji'an lay on a surprisingly comfortable bed in a small, cozy wooden cabin located just behind the kitchen.
Jiu Zui had apparently built it decades ago, though it had remained empty until tonight.
She stared up at the wooden ceiling, listening to the wind howl around the isolated peak.
It had been the longest, most chaotic week of her life.
