The cold radiating from Lin Xi's chest seeped through the coarse linen of Ye Chen’s tunic, chilling his collarbone like a slab of mountain ice.
He held her against his chest with both arms, feeling the terrifying stillness of her ribcage where no breath rose, and the brittle hardness of the black frost that crept across her jaw.
A suffocating, raw agony clawed through his throat, threatening to tear his focus apart, yet beneath the grief, a dark, venomous fury settled into his fractured meridians, locking his jaw into an unyielding line.
Across the broken terrace, the metallic scrape of boots on shattered stone signaled the closing of the trap.
Sect Master Zhao Tianxiao stepped forward, flanked by young master Zhao Feng and the eight-foot mutated frame of Su Rou.
Behind them, twenty s
