The jail cells of the Xuan'an Bureau reeked of dampness and mold, and the curses of Grey Snake echoed shattered against the iron bars.
Pi Yanlin sat hunched on the steps, finishing the last half of a sugar cake. The crumbs tumbled down his servant’s tunic and into the cracks between the floorboards. He watched the moon drift from the eastern wall to the western wall, then gently tapped the System interface at his waist—the time for his daily check-in was almost upon him.
"Old Grey, tired of yelling? Want a drink of cool water?" He shook the ceramic pot in his hand, his voice lazy and languid. "I’m a man who hates being barked at in the middle of the night. If you lose your voice by morning, don't say I didn't warn you."
Chapter 92