Sitting in front of a luxurious mercury mirror, Moliat was motionless.
Her ivory comb was caught in her silver-white hair, but her eyes were staring blankly at herself in the mirror.
Although she stood almost a meter and ninety tall, the face in the mirror seemed that of a little girl under twenty.
Back when she first met Horn she was only about twenty-four or twenty-five; now she was almost thirty.
Horn... Papa...
She sat before the mirror for quite a while until the effect of the pain-relieving potion dissipated, and the stabbing pain in her back startled Moliat awake.
She quickly grabbed the iron mask from the dressing table and put it on her face, breathing a sigh of relief.
If not for the pain from her injuries, she would have almost been possessed by Jia Li once again.
Indeed, these anesthetic pain-relieving potions made from frog poison could paralyze the pain, but also numb Moliat's tense nerves.
