The pills had helped. So had the teachers, the tablets, and people who had set food in front of him when he could hardly lift a spoon. Pei Jing remembered all of them as he closed his fist.
The Ledger had counted forty-five thousand days on which he had finished the work. The second session on a good day could teach him something new. It could not give him another day. The bad days still belonged to him, too.
The Judge saw dust draw toward his knuckles. It raised both hands to cover the fire in its chest. Pei Jing shifted his weight before it could close the gap.
