Jun 1, 2025
It’s summer. Binghe is in the process of braiding her hair and plotting murder when the birds on her window take flight, telling her of her Shizun’s arrival.
The tower’s front chamber echoes horribly, which is why it’s the work of seconds for Binghe to dry her tears. Usually when Shizun calls out for her to toss her hair through the window, she’s there, face scrubbed red but dry.
She throws the hair out as it is, half braided- to hear a shriek in response. She peers over the edge, and sees a woman craning up to do the same.