Chapter 71-72: Die, Old Thief
The liquor fell into the cup with a faint, crisp splash, ringing out like a thunderclap in the deathly silent room.
Zhao Yong's breath hitched, and he turned his head.
What did he see?
The medicine slave was sitting completely upright.
There was not a trace of fear on his face. It was as if Zhao Yong's earlier threat—'I will refine you into a human elixir'—were nothing more than a story that had nothing to do with him.
He even took a sip of his drink while meeting Zhao Yong's gaze, then poured himself a second cup.
Zhao Yong furrowed his brow, staring fixedly at Chen Lingxi.
Chen Lingxi drank his second cup and set it on the edge of the table.
He looked up, his gaze cutting past the candlelight to land on Zhao Yong's face.