Chapter 45: For Science
Slowly fluttering open, Sheng Moxian’s eyes were met by a soft glow filtering in through a nearby window.
Her body ached slightly, but she was warm—wrapped in a thick, comfortable blanket atop a surprisingly clean bed.
The scent of herbs lingered faintly in the air, calming her senses.
"Where... am I?" Sheng Moxian murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
As her vision adjusted, her eyes slowly scanned the unfamiliar room.
The wooden walls.
The basin of water on the table.
A flickering candle, half-melted.
Then, finally, Sheng Moxian’s gaze fell to the side of the bed—and her breath caught:
’The Saint... Hei Long...?’
He sat slouched in a wooden chair, fast asleep, his arms folded lazily across his lap.