Xiuming carried the heavily wounded and unconscious Deng Yan'an on his back, stepping over corpses as he rushed toward the kitchen. His pace was so frantic, combined with the weight of his burden, that he nearly collapsed more than once.
After a brief pause, he observed that the people scattered before him—who appeared to have suffocated—actually still had faint, shallow breathing. He shook a few of them, and when there was no significant reaction, he took their pulses. Upon feeling their pulse patterns and noting the peculiar scent permeating the air, Xiuming frowned in anxiety. He had initially mistaken the smell for the odor of scorched debris, but it was now clear that this was a specialized anesthetic.
Everyone here had been drugged. If they didn't escape to avoid the fire, they would simply wait here to be overcome by the poison. What would happen to them once they lost consciousness? Would someone carry them away? Or would they be consumed by the flames without feeling any pain? These were the people of Nanxin. Xiuming felt that if Prince Changle were here, he would never leave them to their fate.
Chapter 304