The night in Qinglan City was already deep. The lanterns at the inn swayed in the wind, casting dim, yellowish halos that made the puddles on the blue stone slab road shimmer like scattered silver. When Ye Fan pushed the door open, Su Qingxue had already handed him a handkerchief. The silk, dampened with warm wine, brushed against the bloodstain on the back of his hand, carrying her familiar sinking water scent. "This scratch is deep. We'll need Younger Sister Lin to nourish it with sword qi tomorrow."
Lin Zhaoyue was lowering her head to straighten his sleeve, which had been slashed by sword qi. Her ivory fingertips paused over the tear, and she suddenly lifted her wrist. A pale cyan sword qi overflowed from her sleeve, precisely rewinding and twisting the broken threads back together. "The 'Weaving Cloud Hands' of my Cangwu Sword Sect are faster than needle and thread." The tips of her ears flushed red, yet the corners of her eyes still maintained a cool detachment. It was just that the newly pinned white magnolia in her hair swayed gently in the night breeze.
"Don't just fuss over clothes." Chǔ Hóngzhuāng bounced over, cupping a Golden Silkworm Gu in her palm, its body gleaming with the luster of beeswax. "This Gu can block poison for you three times. Put it against your chest." As she spoke, she tried to shove it inside Ye Fan's lapel, only to be tapped lightly on the wrist by Qín Wǎnshuāng's abacus beads.
Chapter 142