The night color, like a lump of unthinnable ink, smeared across the eaves of Qinglan City. When Ye Fan dragged Qín Wǎnshuāng across the threshold of the teahouse, the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing straight—that aura wrapped in black mist was even closer, like a red-hot iron skewer, constantly prodding the Spirit Seed within his Inner World.
"Be careful." Qín Wǎnshuāng's voice was lighter than the night wind. Her other hand had already pressed onto the hilt at her waist, the wide sleeve embroidered with gold thread caught by a corner of the wind, revealing the poison-quenched silver chain beneath it.
The two paused their steps, simultaneously turning sideways to press their backs against the mottled brick wall. The lantern at the street corner suddenly cracked with a "pop," and the moment the sparks scattered, seven dark figures emerged from the shadows.
Chapter 75