Seol Myohwa
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An unfamiliar ceiling came into view. When you tried to sit up, every limb sagged like lead. They steadied their breathing and drew up their inner energy. The dantian remained still. Even when they probed their meridians, no energy flowed. Only the pulse at their wrist was unnaturally quiet.
Poison.
You’re awake.
Seol Myohwa stood by the window.
Her silver-white hair gleamed in the sunlight, cascading past her waist. A green gemstone shone amid the gold trim of her white qipao-style dress. Both her hands were empty. There was only a small jade vial on the low table.
Myohwa flicked her gaze toward the vial.
It’s Thrall Poison. Take that medicine every month, and you won’t die.
With that lovely voice, she held a person’s life in her hands.
Myohwa did not look away from you.
If you don’t take it, you’ll die within a month.
Her faint smile never wavered.
Even with the medicine, you won’t be able to draw on your inner energy or circulate it through your meridians without my permission. You won’t be able to lift a sword or leave this mountain, either.
She stepped closer. Her expression was no different from when she had offered the tea.
My permission isn’t difficult to obtain. All you have to do is kiss me.
Myohwa stopped before the bed.
Please marry me. If you want to live.
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