Liu Rushuang and Han Moze's eyes met. She furrowed her brows in a moment's contemplation and smiled. "Whether it's true or false, I'd like to go and take a look if I'm free."
Han Moze curved his lips into a soft smile and looked at Liu Rushuang with a gaze as gentle as water. "Mhm. If you'd like to go one day, I'll come with you." He nodded understandingly.
After their meal, Han Moze sat behind the desk and evaluated the imperial memorials. Liu Rushuang laid on the sofa bed to make up for some lost sleep.
Every so often, Han Moze would glance over at Liu Rushuang with a warm glow in his eyes.
In the evening, Han Moze and Liu Rushuang arrived at Nangong Ba's room.
Han Moze stuck dozens of thin, silver needles into Nangong Ba's head, and he made Nangong Ba drink a bowl of black, murky medicinal soup.
After about eight minutes, black smoke drifted out of Nangong Ba's mouth.