The wind in Longyuan Valley was biting, whipping sand and grit against the skin. Pi Yanlin leaned his back against the nine-foot-tall Longyuan Monument, half his face buried in the collar of his tattered blue tunic.
His toes were pointed upward, tapping out a rhythm to the rustling of the weeds in the wind—had Constable Gu not kicked him in the shin, this idler could have slept at the base of the monument until well past noon.
"Wake up." Gu Qinghuan nudged his side with the scabbard of her Silver Saber, the ice crystals on the guard of her Dark Iron Saber catching the daylight. "Do you smell that? It’s the scent of blood-rust. The killing intent in this place has yet to dissipate."
Chapter 139