The room was a sea of blinding red. The Dragon and Phoenix Candle had already burned halfway down.
Emperor Wu Su's eyes were also stained crimson, reflecting a ferocity Ji Qingwu had never seen in him before.
Her body was terrified of him in this state; the arm he held in a viselike grip was still trembling.
But the heart hidden in her chest, surprisingly, wasn't frantic. Instead, it swelled with a burgeoning heat.
Ji Qingwu's gaze locked onto Emperor Wu Su's enraged face, and she stared greedily for a long moment. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she used her free hand to feel for his pulse at his wrist.
She said in astonishment, "Your Majesty, your injuries have healed?"
His pulse was strong and steady, already mostly recovered.
Before, it had been as faint as a silken thread, as if it could stop at any moment. This was the first time Ji Qingwu had ever seen someone recover with such miraculous speed.
