The copper coin spun once across my fingertips before dropping into my palm. I stared at that fine scratch; it did bear some resemblance to the pattern on the City Lord Token, like a fragment of some key. Just as I was about to examine it more closely, an exceedingly faint fishy stench brushed past my nose—not the pungent reek of ordinary poison, but a stale, rotten odor mingled with rust and medicinal dregs, as though it had drifted out of a corpse-refining furnace.
My fingers paused slightly. Without betraying anything, I tucked the copper coin into my sleeve and casually arranged my silver needles. From the corner of my eye, I swept a glance beneath the eaves at the street corner. That person had been standing there all along, his pale face hidden in the shadow of his hood, his sleeves trembling faintly as if something might shoot out at any moment. His gaze was nailed fast to my hand, especially the spot where I had just administered the needles, carrying an almost greedy intensity.
This man had not come seeking treatment.
I lowered my head and continued packing up my medicine chest, moving slowly while my divine sense silently spread outward. The Pseudo-Primordial Body possessed an instinctive sensitivity to evil qi. Though that fishy stench had been deliberately suppressed, it still hung in the air like spider silk. He had been there for quite some time. From yesterday evening until this morning, I had caught sight of his shadow in some corner during nearly every hour I made house calls.
It was no coincidence.
The teapot still sat by the table. Afu had brewed it that morning, adding Calming Grass, saying it could ease my "excessive mental exhaustion." I walked over, lifted the pot, and poured myself a