Shen Nianzu snuck a glance at his mother through the corner of his eye and discreetly brought his knuckles to his mouth, giving it a tentative lick.
The metallic taste of blood permeated his tongue, so vivid and tangible that he could not even dismiss it as a mere figment of his imagination. The wounds on his knuckles continued to pulsate, now slightly glistening with saliva, its stinging sensation almost like a form of vengeance after being ignored all this time.
Shen Nianzu couldn't help but inhale sharply.
"Nianzu, is there something wrong?" came his mother's sudden question from the side, startling him so much that he sat upright and placed his hands properly on his lap.
"Are you feeling unwell?" Madam Shen continued to ask, scanning him back and forth with apparent concern.
