correcting stances, answering questions, and demonstrating smaller details. She had a habit of noticing when someone was frustrated and giving them a problem they could solve instead of simply telling them to try harder. She could be strict, but she was never cruel for the sake of looking powerful. The disciples respected that about her almost as much as they admired her swordsmanship.
She had just crouched beside a young student whose front foot kept turning outward when a clear bell rang from the central pavilion. It sounded once, then again, its bronze note carrying across the mountain.
Qiao Zhi froze.
A disciple nearby glanced at the sky. "Is that the breakfast bell?"
"It is," another answered. "The second one, actually."
Qiao Zhi straightened so quickly that her loose hair swung over her shoulder. Her calm teacher's expression vanished. "Why didn't anyone tell me it was so late?"
