As the corpse of Chiyan landed with a dull thud on the bluestone floor, the gold-wound ointment on Pi Yanlin’s fingertips still held the warmth of Gu Qinghuan’s hand.
He stared at the charred wound, his usually listless eyes suddenly sharpening. The edges of the burn were tinged with an eerie purple—it was clear that the Fire of Mandate had been laced with the Bone-Eroding Poison of the Holy Monarch Cult.
"Constable Gu," he murmured, curling his fingers gently over her pulse. A sense of languor seeped from his fingertips into her meridians, forcing the trail of poisonous fire out of her body. "You said it didn't hurt. You really know how to lie."
Chapter 163