The night was like ink-soaked cotton, pressing heavily upon the tiled roofs of Qinglan City. Ye Fan walked at the very front, his boot soles crushing a piece of shattered porcelain, the crisp sound startling a night owl in the corner of the wall into a frantic flutter of wings.
Unconsciously, his fingertips rubbed against the Jiuxiao Huanpei at his waist. The surface of the jade still retained the lingering warmth from when he had just imprisoned Zhao Wuji—the strange fluctuations within that tiny spatial dimension made his heart tighten even more than the nocturnal mist.
"Young Master Ye." Su Qingxue's voice drifted over, wrapped in a sweet, lingering cadence. She had somehow circled around to his left side, her moon-white gauze skirt brushing against the back of his hand. "According to the route map sent by Miss Qin, the final marker is to the right." As she spoke, she raised her wrist. With a soft chime of the silver bells on her arm, three silver needles laced with paralyzing poison vanished into her sleeve.
Chapter 227