An Ning was given the highest level of treatment.
She brought the burlap sack with her and was given the best private room to herself. She ate and drank well, resting soundly for a night.
The next morning, as she was about to head out for breakfast, she was surprised to see Director Zhao at her door.
"You're awake."
Director Zhao's heart sank as he looked at An Ning's white hair and emaciated figure.
"An Ning... you..."
"It's fine. The time, place, and people were all right. We succeeded, didn't we?"
"I just lost a bit of weight. I'll gain it back if I eat more."
An Ning's casual tone left Director Zhao at a loss for words.
The higher-ups had been somewhat skeptical about this "Mysticism" An Ning spoke of, but he now felt that would no longer be the case.
She had been a perfectly healthy person, yet she'd been reduced to this state.
"Alright. You must eat well. Tell me whatever you want to eat, and I'll get it for you."
An Ning didn't refuse. It was what she deserved.
