Shen Tang had wanted to avoid the topic.
"Wangchao meant I should prepare myself mentally."
Kang Shi tactfully didn't press further.
What was that supposed to mean, if not a death notice?
"Wuhui is steadfast in his resolve. He'll surely see his true nature clearly and turn misfortune into fortune." Hadn't those years at Moonlit Pavilion been a trial that tempered his heart in the Mortal World? Literary Scholars spent their entire lives seeking their true nature and their own path. The more steadfast their resolve, the more likely they were to reach the other shore.
As far as steadfastness went, Kang Shi knew he couldn't compare.
It was just—
Chu Wu Hui's current predicament was probably even more dangerous than his had been. Back then, he'd already had one foot through the gates of hell.
If Chu Wu Hui put both feet in, Kang Shi couldn't imagine how their liege would fly into a rage. Literary Scholars were all mentally ill, and their liege was one too, so naturally she was no exception. She'd been mentally stable, sunny, and cheerful these past few years, seemingly no different from an ordinary person. That didn't mean she was particularly healthy; it just meant she hadn't encountered anything that would trigger an episode.
If Chu Wu Hui kicked the bucket, she'd have her trigger.
Shen Tang asked, "Why does Ji Shou look like he wants to say something but can't?"
"Is there more bad news you haven't told me?"
Kang Shi gave an awkward smile. "...There really is."
He'd received word that the epidemic back home was under control, and he'd thought the clouds had parted and they could rest easy from then on. But that very night, he'd had another nightmare. The difference between this one and the previous nightmares was