The candle flame inside the cave fluttered under the mountain breeze, casting a shifting light upon the seal scroll in Ye Fan's palm. The fine crack across it looked like a small snake, writhing slowly. Su Qingxue's cloth, used to wipe away blood, suddenly froze—she distinctly felt that the wound on the back of Ye Fan's neck, grazed by the black radiance, was seeping black blood at a visible rate, as if his meridians were being corroded by something.
"A-Ye." Her fingertips trembled, pressing the cloth down tighter. "The blood isn't right."
Ye Fan lowered his gaze to scan it, the metallic sweetness rising in his throat suddenly turning searingly hot. The ancient stele inscriptions he had seen in his past life at Mount Buzhou flashed in his mind, the four characters "Spirit-Starved Devouring Life" bursting forth. Just as he was about to speak, the morning mist outside the cave suddenly surged, and the faint blue light in the direction of the altar flared abruptly by three inches, causing even the old peach tree within his Inner World to shudder as a final withered leaf "slapped" down into the Golden Fluid Pool.
Chapter 295