In the Capital City, there seemed to be no distinction between night and day. It was perpetually engulfed in dusk, neither bright nor dark, causing unease in people's hearts.
Indistinct and indecisive.
It was as if this world and this kingdom, like other nations, were slowly but surely immersing themselves in death, yet still a long way from a swift end.
As if lying in an ICU, hooked up to tubes.
Death itself is not the torment; the endless, protracted agony that precedes its arrival is.
"I think they're all quite pitiful."
Within the massive temple, seemingly constructed for Giant Beasts, Huai Shi heard Fu Yi's lament.
Huai Shi glanced back at her, unable to resist remarking, "Your sentiments might seem a little more sincere if you'd spit out that pine cone before you speak."
