Zhou Chenghai woke to pain throughout his entire body.
It wasn't the sharp, sudden kind of pain that demanded immediate attention so much as the deep, grinding ache that radiated through every muscle in his body. Honestly, it felt like he had been hit by a truck and then backed over a few times to make sure that the job was done. But nothing was broken, and he wasn't bleeding, so that was a plus.
He tried to move, and his body protested immediately. Every muscle screamed—his shoulders, his back, his legs. Even his fingers felt stiff, like they'd been clenched into fists for hours and had forgotten how to relax.
He forced his eyes open, and sunlight hit him directly, bright and harsh. He squinted against it, his vision blurring at the edges, before slowly sharpening into focus. He felt the stone beneath him, cold and hard.
Right. The balcony. He was still on the balcony.
