Rong Jing, not wearing a poison-repelling sachet?
Gu Lan struggled to lift her head, gazing at Rong Jing's expression.
He was wearing a dark golden dragon robe, his hair crown untied, ink-black hair cascading to his waist, spread like thick ink, his narrow almond eyes glinting with frost, yet Gu Lan couldn't detect the slightest discomfort from his expression.
Zhang Fengcai, wearing a poison-repelling sachet, couldn't control his profuse sweating, his expression slightly twisted, his face flushed red.
In contrast, aside from his face being pale and colorless, Rong Jing showed no unusual signs.
Even for herself...
Even for someone like Gu Lan, who had once been an assassin and endured torturous training far worse than this, the sudden scent of Heart-devouring Incense, even though her brain could quickly tell her it was just a psychological illusion, her body would still temporarily lose control, breaking out in cold sweat all over.
