Inside the secret chamber of the Xuan'an Bureau, a candle wick popped with a spark. Pi Yanlin's thumb rubbed against a blood-stained corner of paper, and the dark red bloomed across the coarse hemp paper like a withered plum blossom.
He slowly drew back the leg he had been resting on the desk, and the bamboo chair let out a soft creak—this was his habitual gesture when he was being serious; seemingly lazy, yet every nerve in his body was actually strung taut.
"Liu Ruyan?" Gu Qinghuan's voice came from behind, carrying a coldness steeped in frost.
Chapter 196