Li Yuanjing grasped Shen Wei's pale hand.
Willing to humble himself for her sake, he spoke in a gentle tone: "Weiwei, from now on, I—"
Before he could finish, his dark eyes suddenly locked onto Shen Wei's face with an intense gaze.
He noticed something unsettling—a faint, eerie black-purple hue tinging Shen Wei's pallid lips.
Li Yuanjing touched the discolored corner of her mouth, realization dawning. Frantic, he tore open the white bandage wrapped around Shen Wei's right arm.
With a rustle—
The bloodstained cloth fell away.
Beneath it lay a shallow wound.
The cut was small, no longer than a pinky finger, and barely deep enough to break the skin. Yet, the wound showed no signs of healing, instead festering with the same ominous black-purple hue.
Shen Wei, still unaware of the severity, furrowed her delicate brows in irritation. "Your Majesty, why did you remove the bandage—"
Then, dizziness struck her.
