Inside the study of the Qinghe Market Golden Core garrison courtyard, the ambergris scent drifting from the sandalwood censer mingled with a lingering trace of ink.
Li Youdao sat straight at his desk, his spine rigidly tense, his knuckles gripping the letter paper until they turned pale.
As he read, his pupils kept contracting. A tilted teacup spilled tea across his slate-blue robes, blooming into dark stains, but he remained completely oblivious.
Chapter 173