PREVIEW

... aozu entered the training pavilion for a second day in a row. Dew still clung to the edges of the wooden beams, and the stone courtyard steamed faintly with the promise of a warmer day.

Zhao Xinying was already there.

She stood at the far end of the pavilion, one arm raised lazily above her head in a stretch, her back to him. The same green robes she always wore had been cinched tighter today, sleeves tied back, exposing her wrists and forearms. A signal. She was ready to fight. ...

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