Snow leaked from the ruined temple in the middle of winter, and Shen Qingci huddled in the corner, coughing until his lungs felt like they were about to burst. He was once the legitimate son of the Grand Tutor's Mansion in the capital, but now he was wearing smelly torn cotton wool. The blood droplets between his fingers dripped on the snow and froze into black and red grains.
Ten years ago, Liu Zhong, the housekeeper of the Liu family, held his chin, poured "traction machine" into his throat, and said with a smile, "It's better to live than to die." Now when the poison was taking effect, his internal organs felt like being stirred by blunt knives, but he still held half of the Shen family jade pendant in his arms - it was paid for by his loyal servant Lin Bo, and it was stained with Lin Bo's blood.
Suddenly there was the fragrance of medicine wafting from the door of the temple, and an old man stared at his jade pendant: "Pull the machine? I can solve it." He didn't know if this was to save him, or to drag him into another hell paved with medical skills.
