Yuji, dressed in a long red dress, lay still in the great hall as the silvery gray blood kept flowing out of her mouth.
Xiang Yu stood beside her like an old pine that had suddenly become hollow and dead, spiritless and lifeless. His eyes, once so brilliant, had turned fishy gray, and his soul seemed to be fading with the silvery gray blood in Yuji's mouth.
Wu Qi squatted beside Yuji and carefully dabbed a trace of blood with his fingertip. He then examined it cautiously with a mystic art of identifying poisons he had learned from the Directorate of Celestials. The bloodstain burned at the tip of his finger, giving off a pungent, scorched smell like a fried pepper. Even with the mighty strength of his flesh, his finger tingled, and a tiny patch of skin was burned to coke by a silvery gray flame.
