Lěng Xuéchāo slowly drew his dagger, the blade reflecting a glint of cold light in the dim surroundings. He gently pointed the tip toward his own index finger, but hesitated at the very last moment and finally lowered the dagger.
Seeing this, Xiāng Zhǐruò felt a trace of tension rise in her heart, but she maintained her composure on the surface and asked softly, "General, is something wrong?"
Lěng Xuéchāo looked up at her with a hint of curiosity in his eyes: "Does this flower really have the effect you described? As long as a drop of blood is added, it will emit a unique fragrance?"
Chapter 548