There were no training arenas.
There were no majestic halls.
There was only a single, slightly dilapidated wooden manor situated near a rushing mountain stream.
Ji'an hiked up the path, her heart beating with a sudden, warm surge of genuine affection.
She pushed past the overgrown bamboo and stepped into the main courtyard.
She fully expected her beloved outdoor kitchen to be a disaster.
She had been gone for five months.
She expected the iron woks to be rusted, the chopping blocks to be rotting, and the fire pits to be flooded with rainwater.
But as she stepped into the clearing, she stopped dead in her tracks.
The outdoor kitchen was flawless.
The massive cast-iron woks had been meticulously scrubbed, oiled, and polished until they gleamed black in the sunlight.
The heavy wooden chopping blocks had been sanded and treated with beeswax.
The fire pits were cleaned of all ash, perfectly stacked with high-grade, dry spirit-wood, ready to be ignited.
