"It's a planning committee," Jiu Zui groaned, rubbing his temples as if the very concept of organization gave him a headache. "The old men want to talk about logistics, resource allocation, and tournament brackets. I've avoided going to these for a hundred years by claiming I was in a drunken coma."
"So claim it again!" Ji'an offered helpfully. "I'll brew a batch of fermented plum wine that smells so strong they'll think you died of alcohol poisoning! I have dough to proof, Master! I can't sit in a boardroom!"
