The sky is not yet bright, and there is only a sickly fish belly white lining the skyline.
The air was heavy with the dull sweetness of ambergris, a smell she had smelled ninety-nine times and now only stirred in her stomach. In Kunning Palace, everything was as quiet as a painting, a lifeless meticulous painting depicting "honor" and "solitude".
Yunzhi opened his eyes.
On the top of the beaded tent, a phoenix embroidered with gold threads was spreading its wings and about to fly. Its eyes, dotted with black gemstones, reflected cold light in the darkness. She stared into those eyes, motionless, as if confirming where she was.
For the hundredth time.
In this game of chess, she was back at the beginning.
