The morning sun streamed through the arched stained-glass windows of the Taichu Sanctuary boardroom.
Spread across the polished rosewood table were large architectural blueprints. Golden ink lines traced the layouts of dormitories, botanical gardens, spirit-heating arrays, and communal dining halls.
Sitting around the table was an unprecedented leadership team.
Shen Qiaoqiao sat on Lin Mo’s left with her abacus.
Beside her sat Master Lu Jian, the ninety-two-point master architect, his leather drafting apron stained with graphite and ink.
Sitting across from them was Sister Clara, the ninety-eight-point director of the Southern Continent Orphan Sanctuary. She had arrived via cross-realm spirit-boat late last night. She wore spotless white linen robes and carried polished sandalwood prayer beads.
And at the far end of the table sat Patriarch Xue Ba.
The eight-foot patriarch looked completely out of place in the delicate upholstered armchair. He sat with his knees pressed together, wearing his freshly laundered lemon-yellow uniform. Pinned over his massive chest was his red Employee of the Month rosette.
