The bluestone floor of the dilapidated temple was still cold with the night dew. Pi Yanlin lay flat on his back, propping the nape of his neck on half a broken brick—it was the "optimal reclining position" he had spent ages selecting.
The System’s chime pinged like a fine needle pricking his ear canal: "Atypical fate pattern detected. Would you like to initiate the Lazy Breath Cause-Tracing Technique?"
His fingertips unconsciously brushed the fragments of the talisman board against his chest, the edges biting painfully into his ribs.
Chapter 182