The faint light of dawn was like watered-down milk, spilling softly through the window onto the floor of Yu Xing's room.
Yu Xing opened his eyes. There was none of the usual grogginess of waking; his mind was already fully alert.
As a tree, he didn't need the long, deep sleep humans did. His roots had spread underground through the night, drawing in a trace of coolness from the earth's veins and leaving his mind even more composed. He opened the system to check the time. It was six in the morning; he'd slept for a little over four hours.
The room was quiet. A few birds chirped outside, heralding Yorikof Town's awakening. Yu Xing got up and went to the window, looking outside without thinking.
The street was empty, but unlike the deathly silence of night, this was a quiet that seemed to be waiting to be filled. He listened. Zeng Lai's snores in the next room were low and regular, while Carlos's room was completely silent. Who knew what he was tinkering with?
There was no sign of Qu Xuanqing in the house. She still hadn't returned.
Yu Xing's brow lifted almost imperceptibly.
Carlos's little paper figurine hadn't moved, which meant Qu Xuanqing was safe. Still, a tree couldn't help worrying a little when she hadn't come home all night.
He changed into a plain linen shirt and dark trousers, then pulled on the same coffee-colored overcoat as before and went downstairs without a sound.
In the living room, Yiqing floated beneath the chandelier in an exceedingly elegant pose, slowly fanning himself with a jade-bone fan as he faced the rising sun outside. He seemed to be absorbing something from the morning glow—even though ghosts were not supposed to need that sort of thing.
When he saw Yu