The two streams of memory were like adjacent rivers, on the verge of merging now that the earth between them had crumbled away. Their surfaces reflected each other's ripples, making it impossible to tell where memory ended and reality began.
Jin Xueli lay on the ground. Above her, her vision was filled by the midsection of a giant candle.
For a moment, she couldn't remember what had brought her to the ground. Had her left shoulder been hacked off? Or was her throat torn open?
All she knew was that she seemed to be losing a great deal of blood.
Despite the grievous injury, her body had not yet gone into shock, but her consciousness was already on the verge of fading.
"I've been thinking, and I've decided you're the resident after all."
