When the wind from Canglong Valley, heavy with the sound of roaring pines, poured into the small cave beneath the crag, Pi Yanlin was crumbling half a piece of cold flatbread to feed the mountain sparrows.
He still remembered the tremors from the collapse of the Mingli Bureau’s subterranean vault three days ago—the soft chime of Gu Qinghuan’s saber as she sheathed it, the fine spray of Li Xuance’s blood splashing onto the blue stone floor, and the way the hair on the back of his neck had stood up when the System’s alert tone had exploded in his ears.
"Pi Yanlin." Gu Qinghuan’s voice came from outside the cave, the sound of her boots scuffing against loose gravel arriving before her words.
Chapter 181