She stopped pacing.
She looked at the plush, massive silk pillows resting at the head of her canopy bed.
Ji'an let out a primal growl of pure rage.
She launched herself onto the bed, grabbing the thickest, heaviest goose-down pillow she could find. She slammed her face directly into the center of the plush silk.
And she screamed.
She screamed with the maximum capacity of her lungs. It was a roar of suffocating frustration.
The scream of a game developer whose code had completely broken right before launch and couldn't find the missing semicolon.
It was the scream of a girl who just wanted a bakery but was instead dealing with clones, ice demons, and continental politics.
The heavy pillow muffled the sound, absorbing her wrath so as not to wake the sleeping peak.
"FUCK THE WORLD WILL!" Ji'an screamed into the feathers, her voice vibrating against the fabric. "FUCK THE PLOT! FUCK THE SZECHUAN TRIM! FUCK THE ABYSS! FUCK EVERYTHING!"
