In the delivery room of the imperial capital, Zhao Li stripped off the uniforms of the doctors and nurses and huddled in the corner. When the daughter of heaven and man reached out to reach for the fetal sac, he strangled her wrist. The shadow of the whip separated the two of them and hit the wall. The muffled sound echoed. Lu Nan said coldly that if you move again, you will be the next container. Xuan Nu was lying on the ground panting, with blood oozing from the whip marks on her abdomen. Zhao Li raised his hand and threw her out of the third floor window. He stood in front of the crying baby's bed and whispered half a poem, then turned around and pushed the door open towards the waiting figure in the night. There was a man standing outside the door, his sleeves stained with incense ash, and holding a paper lamp in his hand. The wick is burning and the flame is green. The man said: Officer Zhao, this child's life is not just a container for Chi You. You missed one thing. When he was born, his eyes were red. The real Xia Dongqing was born blind.
