The compound lay quiet, punctuated only by the soft golden glow of lanterns swaying gently in their holders, casting dancing shadows that played across walls and walkways like restless spirits.
Yueshuang sat motionless by her window, a statue carved from worry and waiting. Her dinner, carefully prepared, artfully arranged, sat untouched on the lacquered table beside her, the dishes growing cold, the delicate wisps of steam that had once risen from them long since dissipated.
Her eyes remained fixed, unblinking, on the healing wing across the courtyard where Lian lay dying, where every passing moment meant another step closer to losing him forever.
Where was Ah-Ying? The question circled endlessly through her mind like a trapped bird. It shouldn't have taken this long. The walk to Master Chen's shop was brief; the transaction should have been simple.
Arrange for the hawk, pay the merchant, and return with confirmation. A task of perhaps an hour at most.
