The night air was thick as diluted ink, staining the eaves of Guiyuan Temple in deep, somber tones.
Pi Yanlin finished the last bite of a cold bun, the flour on his fingertips dusting his plain blue tunic. The clothing Gu Qinghuan had shoved at him still held the residual warmth of the kitchen steamer, making it far more comfortable than the menial servant’s rags he had worn for the past three years.
"What are you daydreaming about?" Gu Qinghuan’s voice drifted from behind him.
Chapter 28