When the silver knife lifted off the veil, the silver wolf tattoo on Nan Zhao's neck was bleeding.
The medicine pestle on Shen Qingwu's fingertips ran over the scar on his chest, and he raised his eyes to see the dark whirlpool in the Wolf King's eyes - the cold iron kiss dipped in honey was the deadliest poison in troubled times.
"General, this injury can't be saved alive but not in the heart." The cinnabar mole on her left eye was shining brightly in the gunpowder smoke, but she didn't know that the hidden arrow outside the tent had been poisoned by the poison of the imperial city.
When the ten-mile beacon was lit with fox fire, the armored general knelt down and held the enemy's head as a betrothal gift, and the medical girl found a blood-stained marriage certificate from her medicine bag.
Everyone knew that King Zhenbei was a wolf that drank blood, but in her palm he turned into a fox with a begonia in its mouth.
Unexpectedly, in this troubled world, the fiercest blade will not be able to withstand a drop of hot rouge tears.
