Bamboo shadows cast dappled light across Ye Fan's face, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheepskin scroll. The blood-red writing on the scroll still carried an un-faded metallic tang of fresh blood. The excruciating pain of his heart being pierced by a trusted friend when he fell in his past life suddenly surged back—back then, he had also felt as though he was in complete control of the situation, never expecting that the person he trusted most would stab him in the back.
"Ye Lang?" Su Qingxue's voice was wrapped in three parts worry and seven parts gentleness. Before he knew it, she had slipped around to his side, her warm, soft fingertips resting gently on the back of his hand. This woman, who always loved to half-conceal her face with a fox-fur wrap, hadn't even had time to adjust her earrings; the diamond fragments dangling near her temples caught the light and shimmered.
Ye Fan took a deep breath and unfurled the scroll onto the green-bamboo-paved ground. The blood-red characters cast a dark purple hue in the bamboo shadows, resembling congealed old wounds. "What Ye Wuji wants to raise is no ordinary evil entity." His voice was low, yet like an ice-tempered blade slicing through the air. "It is the lingering soul of an ancient Taotie. Using ten thousand people in a blood sacrifice for a century, he is waiting to seize a body and be reborn to step into the realm of Changsheng."
Chapter 350