“Dong jie fights well as always,” Mu Nihuang said, smiling. “It’s been a while since we’ve sparred; perhaps you can give me a match, as well?”
Xia Dong had had her own year of mourning. She had tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that Nie Feng had died a hero, had given his life to prevent a rebellion, and had succeeded. All things being equal, though, she’d rather her husband were alive.
Xia Dong realized the silence had dragged on too long. The smile on Mu Nihuang’s fac…
“Dong jie fights well as always,” Mu Nihuang said, smiling. “It’s been a while since we’ve sparred; perhaps you can give me a match, as well?”
Xia Dong had had her own year of mourning. She had tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that Nie Feng had died a hero, had given his life to prevent a rebellion, and had succeeded. All things being equal, though, she’d rather her husband were alive.
Xia Dong realized the silence had dragged on too long. The smile on Mu Nihuang’s face was slipping. Xia Dong found her own smile somewhere and gave Mu Nihuang a challenging bow. “I would be honored to spar with the princess,” she said. “Let us see if you have kept up your training, stuck in the south as you were.”
On the road, after the walls come down. Tris looks for answers; Peter looks for an ending.
“Has no one done this for you?” Jin Guangyao asked, eyeing Xue Yang in the mirror.
When they arrive in the Yiling Supervisory Office, Jiang Yanli freshly recovered from fever, Jiang Cheng in a coma, and Wei Wuxian nearly at the end of his rope, Jiang Yanli does what she does best—acts as the warm, nurturing support for her brothers. But she's tired, too.
"You have hairier feet than a satyr."
"Don't be an idiot, Achilles, they've got hooves."
"Hairier than a satyr's ass, then. And they stink."
Or, sailor boys in bondage.
In Egypt, the emperor sleeps poorly.
Susan's on the loose, and Falco walks right back into an old cage.
Aumerle doesn't seek absolution.
Art for reine_des_corbeaux.