That night, after the delegates were bursting with wine and food from the feast, Mo Qian Yuan and Bai Yun Xian led Qin Yu Yan and Jiang Chen Qing to the palace that Mo Xuan Fei resided in.
Before they even reached the door, Qin Yu Yan detected a foul stench of rot mixed in with the fragrance of various herbs The strong smell of herbs was unable to cover the pungent stench.
The door was opened, and within the palace, sat a man on a wheelchair.
No.
More accurately, it was a decaying corpse. Rotting flesh hung on its exposed bones. He was clothed, but in the areas where he was not covered, there was not a single spot where the flesh was not affected by his condition. Thick yellow pus clung on the darkened blood wounds and dripped from the man's face, neck and hands. If his chest did not rise and fall weakly, there would have been no sign of life in him.
Even the hardened and stoic Jiang Chen Qing had gasped deeply at the sight of Mo Xuan Fei.
