A biting chill ran along the skin of his neck and spread throughout his limbs and bones in an instant.
It was not the coldness of the night in the mass graves, but the touch of death brought by a piece of sharp metal.
Shen Ning's body froze.
She had just struggled back from the brink of death, was she going to die again?
The rich smell of blood mixed with a strange sweet fragrance penetrated into her nostrils.
As a forensic examiner, she was all too familiar with this smell.
It's blood, and it's poisonous.
She slowly turned her stiff neck, and out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a black garment hem, which was embroidered with intricate dark patterns of coiled dragons with gold thread, shining dimly under the moonlight.
Regent, Xiao Junhe.
This thought flashed through my mind, and the handsome but cold face in the original memory overlapped with the profile of the man in front of me.
He also seemed to be severely injured, breathing heavily, and the arm holding the sword was trembling slightly.
A pair of eyes were frighteningly red, filled with chaos and violence, and he had completely lost his mind.
