Just as day was breaking, Zheng Qing was roused by a vigorous shake.
He squinted one eye and, in the dim light through the window, made out the blurred figure of Xiao Xiao.
"What?" he grumbled, rolling over, and burrowing deeper into his warm bedroll.
The remnants of last night's revelry had yet to fade, the headache and bitter taste left by the hangover were significantly mitigated in his sleep.
He didn't want to bother opening his eyes and face greater suffering in reality.
"Morning exercise, and you promised Jiang Yu a rendezvous at the library," Xiao Xiao stirred something in his hand, chiming and tingling, said in a breezy tone: "You were the one last night before bed who asked me to find a way to wake you up."
"I regret it." Zheng Qing moaned languidly under the covers.
Xiao Xiao seemed completely oblivious to his sleep talking, and the object in his hand was stirring more vigorously.
"clang, clang, clang, clang."