The wind-tracking eagles brought the carriage down toward the Chu border fortress, its wooden frame creaking against the hot gusts. Unlike the Qi canyons, the western frontier was a wide valley of cracked clay and deep fissures, where the wind carried a sharp, sulfurous heat.
Inside, Ji Han sat with eyes closed, his thunder Qi forming a cool hum around his shoulders, while opposite him, Lin Yuying sat in silent meditation, her breath releasing a faint frost. As they landed, the doors opened to a sweltering dry wind. The basalt walls of the fortress, reinforced by iron brackets, were already hot to the touch, and mortal soldiers were rushing along the battlements carrying oil jars and heavy spears.
