She knew, however, that he was no demon.
Amid crisis, which demon could instinctively protect her behind themselves as he did?
Through the clothes, she could feel his wrist bones' sharpness, hard and thin like old plum branches.
She lowered her voice and asked softly, "Do you need to drink blood?"
Baili An shook his head, having lost much blood, his body felt as though the coldness of the night had invaded his marrow—bone-chillingly cold.
Just then, a resolute voice came from not far away, making Fang Geyu realize why he had refused to drink blood.
"Who exactly are you, that you can control the demonic insects on the Ghost Snake's body in this abandoned residence?"
Under the bloody-looking apricot blossom tree, Young Master Ying Xiu, with his Ghost Sword pressed down, stood tall.
He had clearly seen the dispersal of swarm insects and frowned deeply beneath his dark eyebrows; although his tone was calm without hostility, his gaze held a hint of interrogation.
