His thoughts raced. By the time he reached that conclusion, it seemed his mind had been strained too far, and Pei Ling broke into another fit of coughing. "Cough, cough, cough, cough..."
He frowned at the blood spreading across his lapel. For some reason, ever since entering the Land of Fortune, neither the Crimson Powder Bride nor "Yu" had suffered a thing. Yet he, the inheritor of "Zhou," had fallen under a curse.
Feeling his illness continue to worsen, with no sign of easing even after he removed the mask, he hurriedly lay back down to keep himself from becoming completely bedridden. He pulled the quilt over himself.
The next moment, he fell fast asleep...
The Embroidered Pavilion.
Beaded curtains hung half-rolled, and the embroidered tent draped low.
The red lacquered, gold-inlaid trunks had all been opened. Gorgeous dresses, hair ornaments, jewelry, and all manner of women's belongings lay scattered across the floor.
A dish of precious aloeswood incense had also been knocked over, its rich, heady fragrance filling the entire pavilion.
In the open space of the bedchamber, the Crimson Powder Bride stood with her narrow sleeves rolled high. Frowning, she swept her gaze around, her eyes full of doubt.
Strange!
Where had Pei Ling's Baizhou mask come from?
From the clues she had gathered so far, only maids who had been sacrificed could possess masks.
And when day came, the maids lost their masks...
There was another thing. Last night, before she had regained her Qi Refining Stage strength, she had been locked in her room and hunted by a maid. She had escaped and left the Embroidered Pavilion only by putting on that maid's mask.
The mask had to be an extremely important clue!
At the thought, the Crimson Powder Bride knitted her brows even tighter.