When the morning mist, scented with sandalwood, drifted into Tianji Tower, Pi Yanlin was standing before the "Heavenly Mystery Map," where the star charts flowed like water.
He had only slept for half an hour the previous night. His eyelids, shadowed with fatigue, were rimmed with a faint, reddish hue, yet his eyes were brighter than usual—like cold stars scrubbed clean by morning dew.
"Detective Pi, you’re early today."
Chapter 125