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She felt Zhǐlán tremble beside her, yet the maid still stepped forward to shield her, even while shaking.
Suppressing her unease, Feng Ling stepped inside. The room was dim, cluttered with jars, scrolls, and strange magical reagents scattered across shelves and tables. The air was thick with the pungent scent of herbs. Unlike the immaculate order of the palace halls, this place felt heavy with hidden intent.
Zhǐlán, who followed behind, was stunned by the disorder inside the room. It was nothing like the immaculate halls of the palace she was used to. Feng Ling, too, was taken aback.
If she had not seen maidservants tending to the physician's palace earlier, she might have suspected that Mo Tian had deliberately left him to live in isolation.
Just as the two were scanning the room, a sudden voice broke the silence.
