DRIP-DRIP—
From above, cold and damp droplets of water fell into the puddle below, ripples spreading outward, resonating with a hollow, jarring echo.
Walking slowly within the Dragon Prison, Qi Xiu was constantly reminded by the faint, ubiquitous chill around him that this was a land of death, a land of peril, a land of no escape!
As he slightly twitched his nose, sniffing the scents in the air, Qi Xiu's eyes were clear, shining with a hint of brightness. His skills in alchemy and cooking both enhanced his sense of smell, though he seldom used it in normal times. But now, in this silently oppressive Dragon Prison, other methods were impractical to use for fear of alerting the enemy, so these little techniques, instead, came in handy.
