Jin Ling knew he was not exactly very nice with the other junior disciples— but he also was aware that it was not exactly his fault. He did not exactly gain friends other than Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen— but whom he was more curious about was a boy...

There was another junior; he looked very composed, he was wearing the Wen Clan robes, it was well famous— or... infamous. But Jin Ling also couldn't help but notice he was very pale, as if he was sick or what.

"Gah!" Jin Ling lets out a sharp pain of gasp, gripping his arm tightly— Suihua was on the brink of snapping, the ghost corpse was way too strong.

He doesn't even know himself how he decapitated the corpse, catching his breathe, he leaned his back on the tree trunk— dammit! He knew he should have took Jingyi with him.

"That wound might be poisoned," Jin Ling flinched, snapped his head at the voice; only to see that older boy from Qishan Wen, looking at him— Jin Ling also took note of his voice being deeper for a teenager, and he spoke in the matter-of-fact tone.

"You... you are—"

"That wound might be poisoned," said the boy, without giving Jin Ling a chance to finish his sentence.