Han Yu did not last much longer either.
He dropped onto his own bedroll, pulling his robe around himself more from habit than need, and closed his eyes. The world faded in seconds, his mind too drained to hold onto wakefulness.
Wu Shuan managed to fold his legs into a meditative posture, sitting quietly for a brief span as he attempted to circulate his qi and calm his thoughts. But even he succumbed, leaning sideways and drifting into slumber before long.
In the neighboring section of tents, Xuan Qing and her companions finally allowed themselves to relax.
Their exhaustion was evident, though their discipline had kept them steady until now. They whispered briefly among themselves before settling into their quarters, the silence of the camp soon broken only by the faint rhythm of weary breathing.
