The investigation room was dimly lit. Han Ling's fingers lightly brushed over Chen Qiyue's skin, carefully searching for any hidden talismans. Curses were like invisible vipers—one slight lapse could be fatal. But this time, he found no further traces. Upon hearing the news, everyone's heavy hearts eased a little.
"Thankfully, there aren't more curses. Otherwise, the consequences would be unimaginable," Lan Qihan said, clutching the folder tightly, her eyes still calm and resolute.
Hang Zhongxuan supported Chen Qiyue's limp body as he collapsed onto the floor. His face was pale, and his breathing faint. Han Ling stepped forward, gently holding him with both hands, his expression grave.
"We can't let him fall like this..." Han Ling murmured a spell, then took out a crystal-clear pill from his pocket. It was a specially prepared Qi-recovering pill that could stabilize internal spiritual energy, detoxify, and boost the spirit.
