Ying Yue was currently swinging the sword the Ghost King had seemed to gift him. The blade was thin and long with every swoop and reach. He was getting better and better at holding the heavy blade with every practice. He found that every time he meditated, his core seemed to brighten more and more like a blooming bud. Letting out a happy sigh as he swung the sword one last time, he looked up at the blue sky.
It had been a total of four days since he had seen Wang Li and he was slowly getting used to it. The palace was quiet, even that beast named Snow did not show. He ate with the girls and Shen, practiced his swordsmanship, meditated, and read with no interruptions. No unearthly being that was too beautiful to look at him. No silver eyes burning through his skin and etching against his heart. No familiar touches that made his heart race and mind jumbled. That was good. He was good.
He was just fine.
