When Pi Yanlin leaned against Gu Qinghuan’s shoulder, cold sweat from the nape of his neck was already trickling down into his collar.
He could feel his internal energy churning like boiling water through his meridians. The price of having forcibly tampered with the Karmic Record just moments ago was now crawling up his bone marrow—it felt as though someone were jabbing red-hot needles into his temples, one prick at a time.
"I feel like lying down on the Naihe Bridge for a while," he said, deliberately dragging out the end of his sentence in a languid drawl to hide the tremor in his voice.
Chapter 106