Human-Skin Painting Tools

"Don't eat it." Shen Hui suddenly spoke.

The man was lifting the teapot to pour tea for them when he froze at the words, the spout hanging in midair with a thin stream of tea poised to break.

Forcing a smile, he said, "Daoist sir, do you have any dietary restrictions? Or do these dishes not suit your palate? Just say the word, and I'll have my wife make them again."

Before he had finished speaking, the curtain to the back kitchen lifted, and the woman came out as well.

She stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron as she gazed timidly in their direction, not daring to come closer.

Shen Hui's gaze slowly moved from the dishes on the table to the man's face, then to the woman's.

Then he sat upright as straight as a pine, his tone calm.

"You two... what exactly are you?"

The main room instantly fell silent.

The oil lamp's flame suddenly leaped, bursting with a flickering bloom.

Everyone's shadows stretched long, twisting crookedly across the mud walls like dancing ghosts.

The teapot in the man's hand landed on the table with a thud, splashing several drops of tea across the blue cloth.

He straightened up, the smile already gone from his face as his voice sank.

"Sir, what do you mean by that? My wife and I kindly welcomed you, yet you instead..."

Before he could finish, two streaks of light shot from Shen Hui's sleeve.

One was blood-red, the other bone-white.

The two gleams circled his wrist once, then hovered in midair, slowly turning as they emitted low hums.

The temperature in the room plunged.

At the sight of the two flying swords, all color drained from the couple's faces.

They exchanged a glance, then reacted in completely different