As the evening mist rolled over the pine branches, Pi Yanlin’s back had just pressed against the bluestone slab.
Gu Qinghuan’s blade tip still hung in mid-air—she had just used the sheath to knock away a piece of broken tile that had fallen from the eaves. The blade within its sheath was still trembling slightly, like a beast coiled and ready to strike.
"Now?" She looked down at him, her brows slightly furrowed. The bloodstain on her temple, which he had wiped earlier, still left a faint reddish mark like a crushed peach petal.
Chapter 185