Chapter 6: The Man in White

"That’s not the point—get him off me." Feng Moxi exhaled; if he pressed down any longer, she’d be meeting the King of Hell ahead of schedule!

"Oh~" Qiuqiu’s tail suddenly grew larger, then coiled around the man in white and gently set him aside.

Feng Moxi patted her chest, letting out a breath of relief. The wounds on her body throbbed with dull pain, but before long, a warm current suddenly swept through her entire body, reaching her limbs and bones, diluting the pain.

However, she didn't have time to dwell on it. Having finally encountered a living person, she couldn't just let him die—she might even be able to squeeze some profit out of him.

Thinking this, Feng Moxi walked up to the man in white and examined him.

His face was so exquisitely beautiful that any word used to describe it would be a desecration. His sword-like eyebrows slanted into his temples, his eyes were tightly shut, and his long, curled eyelashes trembled slightly. His long, silky black hair was held up by a jade crown, with a few strands left loose behind his shoulders. He had a straight, bridge-like nose, and his thin, slightly pale lips were pressed into a line. His white robe, as fluid as clouds on the horizon, was outlined with silver patterns, revealing his slender and sturdy physique.

Even Feng Moxi couldn't help but sigh—a monster, a total monster. In her past life, she thought Mu Han was the ultimate definition of handsome, but she never expected...

Just as she reached out to help him up, her hand was suddenly gripped tight, restrained by a powerful force. A hand clamped onto her throat, pinning her vital point.

Feng Moxi was stunned. What the hell?!

The man in white, who had been lying on the ground at death's door just a moment ago, suddenly sat up. One hand gripped Feng Moxi’s hand tightly, while the other choked her neck. His handsome face loomed closer, magnifying right before her eyes.

Feng Moxi froze. Silver eyes? But she quickly calmed down; she had purple eyes herself, after all.

"Let go." Feng Moxi’s voice was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger.

"Who are you?" the man in white asked, his lips pursed. His pair of silver eyes seemed to contain all the elegance in the world, swirling with an endless, icy chill.

"Didn't your mother tell you that you should state your own name before asking for someone else's?"

The man in white hadn't expected her to say that. He was stunned for a moment, then his thin lips spat out three words: "Mo Junchen."

Feng Moxi raised an eyebrow. "Let go."

"You haven't told me your name yet." Mo Junchen’s grip tightened a fraction more, a flash of astonishment crossing his eyes. There was actually such a stunningly beautiful woman in this world! More importantly, she wasn't even afraid of his eyes!

"You were the one who wanted to tell me; I never said I would tell you my name." Feng Moxi shot him a sideways glance and flicked her wrist, breaking free from his restraint, her black-bellied nature fully exposed.

This person was definitely not as harmless as he looked. To be able to maintain such vigilance while poisoned, and on top of that, carrying a lethal Cold Soul Gu that looked like it had been there for over a decade—to have survived until now, he was definitely no ordinary person.

Mo Junchen’s lips twitched. Just as he was about to move, a sharp pain stabbed his heart. His long, fair hand clutched his chest, and his face turned a shade paler.

"I advise you not to move right now. Your poison is about to spread to your heart. Moving will only accelerate the toxin. If it isn't cured within three days, even the gods won't be able to save you." Feng Moxi patted the dust off her clothes and stood up, reminding him indifferently.

"How do you know?" Mo Junchen was slightly surprised. She understood poison? No, that wasn't right—she hadn't even taken his pulse. Could it be...

"You have a Cold Soul Gu planted in your body. It flares up once a month, but this poison happens to make your Gu toxin mutate to twice a month. If you don't cure it, wait for death." In her past life, the number of people who died by her poisons didn't even amount to one-thousandth of the poison manuals she had read. There really wasn't any poison she didn't know. Plus, since she was naturally interested in these things, she learned them with ease.

The so-called Cold Soul: the victim of the Gu must endure bone-chilling pain every month. Each time it deepens, the pain reaches the soul, tearing at you until even in death, you wouldn't forget that sensation.

Whoever planted this Gu on him must have hated him deeply.

A glimmer of light flashed in Mo Junchen’s silver eyes. So, that meant there was a cure?

Although he had long since let go of such things and didn't care, hearing that there was hope to resolve the Gu poison that had plagued him for over a decade, he couldn't help but feel a spark of joy.