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... > Morning in the ancient sect was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Birds chirped. Disciples meditated.
And Li Ming sat on a rock, glaring at the horizon like it personally offended him.
Bai Guo, perched on a teapot, tilted his head. "Descendant, are you... brooding again?"
Li Ming didn’t answer. He was busy drawing diagrams in the dirt labeled:
’How to Prevent Chicken Cults (Prototype 4)’
’Stop Li Wen from Founding the Thunder Egg Sect’
’Ope ...
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