"This bowl of Qiqiao Bleeding Powder is the masterpiece I cooked for three hours. Drink it and you will die and I will leave the palace. Everyone will be happy."
The thick black ink-like concoction swayed slightly in the rough white porcelain bowl, exuding a sickly sweet smell. Shen Yuan's wrist holding the bowl was as steady as a rock, without even a trace of unnecessary tremor. In front of her was the current prince, Li Jing, who was nailed to the cold jade bed by four thousand-year-old black iron chains with thick wrists.
The surrounding air was so cold that it seemed to freeze the blood, and the white air emitted from the cold jade bed was like a solid ice blade, cutting into human skin. There was no human emotion in Shen Yuan's eyes. Her left hand held the bowl of poison that was enough to kill an elephant, and her right hand quickly pulled out a short dagger with a cold blue light from her sleeve.
