In the dead of midsummer, the scorching sun blazed in the sky. The heat hung heavy and suffocating, punctuated by the relentless, pulsing chorus of cicadas.
The copper bells hanging from the eaves of the medical clinic were battered by a hot gust of wind, chiming erratically. Even the sparrows, usually so lively, hid deep within the shade of the trees, too lazy and listless to stir.
Fu Mingyue reclined lazily on an intricately carved master's chair. The white jade bracelet on her wrist swayed gently with each motion as she threaded her needle, casting dappled, shifting shadows across the plain silk.
Chapter 109