Buffeted by a foul-smelling wind, Yuan Zhao felt an instinctual malaise, followed by dizziness and blurring vision. Then, he was flung onto the ground by Huai Shi, who drew the Sword of Virtue to slice his own hand, flicking two drops of blood into Yuan Zhao's mouth.
There was no time to concoct an antidote, so using poison to fight poison it was.
"What the hell are you doing?" Yuan Zhao accidentally swallowed a drop of Huai Shi's blood, and his face turned green. But then, he felt his darkening vision gradually brighten along with the spreading taste of rust.
For a moment, his complexion changed. He wasn't ungrateful enough to complain about Huai Shi's weird method of detoxification, silently praying that the White-named face didn't have any contagious diseases...
Suddenly, he realized something and exclaimed in horror, "Damn it!"
