Pulling away from those distracting thoughts, Yang Qing shifted his gaze in the direction Xie Han had disappeared to. His eyes flickered, reflecting the dusky rays above him.
Xie Han didn't reveal much about himself, but his subconscious actions and body spoke volumes about the life he'd lived. Whether it was the eyes that kept surreptitiously darting about, searching for an escape route or scanning for danger even after being caught; the miasma that had seeped into his body and soul—its levels suggesting it wasn't just the result of poisoning, but of someone who regularly dealt with such toxins; or the dense slaughter aura clinging to him—everything pointed to someone who had reaped countless lives, and in countless ways, chief among them through poison.
