Hue Qing was sitting alone in her private pavilion.
A maid entered silently, carrying a tray. She bowed with respect. She began to prepare tea, arranging the utensils. Hue Qing watched her without really seeing her, lost in her thoughts about Xuan BaiShe.
Suddenly, the maid's steady rhythm was interrupted. The young woman started coughing. It was a dry, violent cough that seemed to tear her lungs apart.
She dropped the porcelain teapot, which shattered on the floor, spilling the steaming liquid. Hue Qing straightened up, her eyebrows furrowing with worry.
"What is happening to you?"
The maid coughed even harder, doubling over. Her hands rose to her throat as if she were choking. Under Qing'er's horrified eyes, a crow feather came out of her mouth.
"How!?" exclaimed Hue Qing, stepping back.
Before she could make the slightest movement to call the guards, the maid opened her mouth exaggeratedly, her jaws dislocating with a sharp crack.
