Yunfeng woke to shouting.
For a second he thought it was a dream—some leftover echo of the past, a raid horn, a warning siren from a life that no longer existed. His body reacted before his mind did, hand already fisting the blanket, muscles tensing to move.
Then the words broke through.
"—YUNFENG! YUNFENG, WHERE ARE YOU—"
Yunfeng groaned and dragged a hand down his face. Beside him, Muchen stirred, mumbling something unintelligible into the pillow, one arm thrown loosely across Yunfeng's waist. The weight of it was warm. Comfortable. Yunfeng really, really did not want to move.
The shouting got louder.
"YUNFENG! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE—"
"It's the doctor," Yunfeng muttered, more to himself than anyone. "Why is the doctor screaming at dawn."
He rubbed his eyes, sat up, and gently pried Muchen's arm off him. Muchen made a complaining noise and rolled over, cracking one eye open just far enough to glare at the ceiling.
"What time is it," he rasped.
"Too early."
"Who's dying."
