As the sound of the Court of Judicial Review’s official boots crunched across the rain-swept courtyard, Pi Yanlin squatted under the eaves of the Imperial Study, chewing on a piece of sugar cake.
Watching the vermilion-lacquered sedan chair, adorned with copper bells, sway unsteadily past the palace walls, the honey-sweet taste of the jujube in his throat suddenly turned bitter. The raid on the Office of the Censor-in-Chief was merely the lifting of a single brick; the sludge beneath was only just beginning to seep through.
A notification from the System chimed in his mind: "Hidden Mission [Tiangong Workshop Secrets] progress: 45%." The number felt like a thin needle, making his molars ache.
Chapter 91