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Five updates today.
The next day arrived. It was now the fourth day since the attack on the Chen Residence.
Autumn sunlight pierced the window lattice and slanted across the low table beside it, illuminating every speck of dust in the air like tiny creatures swimming through a river of light.
Chen Xiaojun's lashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.
His blurred vision gradually cleared. The room was silent and empty.
He tried to push himself upright. Every bone and muscle felt as though countless blunt needles had repeatedly pressed and twisted against them, mingling aching numbness and sharp pain with a deeper weakness that rose from the marrow.
The pain in his head came and went in throbbing pulses, forcing him to stop and tuck the soft pillow behind his back so he could recline against it.
Sunlight warmed the backs of his hands. It was nearly noon.
He closed his eyes and sank his awareness into his body.
His meridians throbbed faintly, shriveled like earth cracked by a long drought. His muscles were worse; every breath tugged at the lingering pain of torn flesh.
His perception probed deeper, reaching the Upper Soul Nest-that deep, hideous fissure now stretched across almost three-fifths of the formation wall.
Nearly half a year of patient nourishment and repair had been undone by that night's overexertion, which had all but burned his soul away.
A barely audible sigh escaped his lips, part bitterness, part helplessness.
After a moment of silence, he raised his hand and pulled the thin cord hanging beside the bed.
The clear chime of a brass bell echoed through the quiet room. Soon, light footsteps approached.
A pretty young woman in a pale lavender-pink