The crisp sound of the bracelet hitting the floor still echoed in my ears. I knelt on the ground, futilely clutching a wisp of lingering agarwood smoke. The police looked at each other in dismay; the older one even crossed himself.
"A—a magic trick?" the young policeman's voice trembled.
I snatched up the jade bracelet, which was still warm. The four small characters engraved on the inner ring—"Bestowed by Emperor Qianlong"—scorched my palm. Had Ziwei really gone back? Back to an era without antibiotics, an era where she would die young from heart palpitations?
Chapter 237