Wood powder fell in a flurry from between his fingers, carrying a charred scent as it merged into the freezing dust of late autumn.
Qin Lie opened his palm, leaving only a few faint white indentations that vanished in a flash. The small courtyard returned to a dead silence, save for the mournful wail of the north wind sweeping across the dilapidated door planks.
Ten days until the Autumn Hunt; mortal danger loomed on the horizon. The "Dark Cloud Treading Snow" and the capable guards prepared by Madam Liu were all scythes meant to claim his life.
Chapter 35