Lu Tong lowered his head to look at the medicinal cake in his hand.
A bitter taste of herbs lingered on his lips, likely because He Xiu was reluctant to part with those broken leaves, some of which were even not fully crushed. But those were probably common, even inferior herbs, with very little medicinal effect. To expect them to counteract poison was as fanciful as a fool's dream.
In fact, they probably couldn't even relieve the toxicity. It was nothing but self-deception, a false comfort.
Lu Tong turned his head. He Xiu ate very carefully, catching every crumb of the cake that fell onto her clothes and transferring it delicately into her mouth as if it were a rare delicacy.
Because she was eating, the coarse cloth covering her face was pulled down. She must have been no longer young, looking about thirty-five or thirty-six. Her features were withered and waxy yellow like aged parchment, and those dense spots under her eyes added years of wind and labor to that yellow paper.
