The air was calm, the sun bright in the clear sky.
In the private courtyard of his residence in the Seventh Outer Mansion, Qi Yun, dressed in a simple gray-white robe, sat before a stone table. A pot of light tea brewed in front of him, the stove fire burning bright, its subtle fragrance drifting on the air.
In this setting, even a pot of the cheapest herbal tea imaginable could make one feel utterly refreshed and relaxed.
He lifted the coarse ceramic cup and took a light sip. The scalding, slightly bitter tea slid down his throat and settled in his stomach, spreading a pleasant warmth. Qi Yun slowly exhaled a long plume of white breath, a look of unprecedented calm and relaxation on his face.
'This... is a feeling of ease I've never known before.'
It had been two days since his return from Piaohai Mountain.
The moment he had returned, he had collapsed onto his bed, fully clothed, and slept as if he were dead to the world.
