The vibrant bloom that usually defined Chloe Bishop’s youthful face—a natural, healthy radiance—had been utterly extinguished. In its place was a sallow, deathly pallor that made her look more like a marble effigy than a living woman.
Old Mrs. Tang leaned back, her sharp eyes softening as she turned to the frantic Madam Bishop. "She’s been tainted by a malevolent energy—a 'shadow breath.' It’s a deep fright, but the root hasn't taken hold yet. Don't worry too much."
Madam Bishop pressed a trembling hand to her chest, nearly collapsing with relief. "Thank you... thank you so much."
The elderly matriarch nodded, turning her gaze toward Donovan Tang. "Donovan, bring me the chest."
Donovan stepped forward, carrying a heavy box crafted from ancient, dark wood. This was no ordinary container
