Chapter Content
Night had not lifted yet.
Lin Zhen had stabilized his son in a small back room of the Skyedge residence, the kind of room a sect kept for emergencies that did not need witnesses. The bleeding had stopped. The pulse had stopped wandering. The boy himself had not moved.
In the room beside it, with the same single oil lamp and the same stretch of pine-board floor, Su Qingyue had moved.
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