The moon was high when Ling Yu finally returned to the flat assigned to their group. The fortress-city outside was alive even at this hour: watch patrols moved in twos along the streets, lanterns flickered faintly from the tall stone walls, and the constant hum of divine energy around the anchor in the city's heart carried on like an eternal heartbeat. Yet for all its liveliness, the night air was heavy, pressing like an unseen hand against her skin.
She slipped silently through the main gate, her boots making no sound on the stone floor of the corridor. She wanted nothing more than to retreat quietly to her room, cleanse herself of the sour scent of wine and Xu Mochen's cloying voice, and bury this night beneath layers of control.
But someone was already waiting for her return, without getting tired.
