Cui Zhi also wanted to know who this scholar was.
He cared far more about the woman in the coffin than Cui Hui did. He and Cui Hui knew each other, but their relationship was tense. There weren't many men who fit both conditions, and Cui Zhi's absurd guess from earlier was clearly wrong. But this was obviously no time to investigate.
His grief was too great. His out-of-control literary energy showed signs of striking at his Heart Meridian.
If he didn't rein it in and calm his thoughts, the best-case scenario was serious injury. A worse outcome would be another coffin in the Mourning Hall.
Cui Zhi was perceptive. From the corner of his eye, he caught the small, struggling movements Cui Hui made as she tried to go forward and support the man, only to force herself to hold back. He closed his eyes briefly, then ruthlessly took advantage of the moment. While the scholar was distracted, he used Word Spirit to subdue him, seal his Dantian, and cut off the link between his Dantian and the literary energy in his meridians. As long as he couldn't call on his literary energy, even if his emotions surged again, he wouldn't be able to kill himself anytime soon.
That still wasn't enough to be safe.
Cui Zhi was about to apply another Word Spirit to soothe the scholar and force him to calm down, but before he could act, the man grabbed his wrist and clamped down on his pulse point. Cui Zhi thought he was about to turn on him and cause a scene in the Mourning Hall. Instead, the scholar endured the agony in his Heart Meridian, the veins on his forehead bulging, and forced out another mouthful of blood. In a hoarse voice, he said, "No