"He's been poisoned?" Jun Haoxuan was the first to speak, already moving to the bedside, his gaze fixed on Ningyan's unnaturally still form.
"Again?" Wuhen blinked, then his expression darkened instantly. He turned on Meishan, eyes blazing. "Then why aren't you doing anything? Isn't healing your specialty? Heal him."
Meishan parted his lips. For a moment, it looked like he would answer.
Then he didn't.
He turned away instead.
Wuhen's fox eyes flared, red-gold light burning violently within them. "Look at me."
He lunged forward but Rong Yue caught his arm mid-motion, yanking him back.
"Calm down, Wuhen," Rong Yue said, voice firm. "We're all worried—"
Wuhen laughed.
It wasn't sane.
A blade formed in his hand, condensed qi, blazing red-gold, humming with lethal intent.
"How," he said softly, almost pleasantly, "do you expect me to calm down when he's been poisoned?"
His gaze snapped toward the door. "I'll kill them. Every last one of them. Those useless attendants—"
