C89 A Portrait of Madame Laure(25)

The hand swelled at a speed visible to the naked eye, forming a circle of purplish-red, spreading and dividing the threads of poison, like a winding line drawn by a painter, with a strange sense of beauty, with a little flower hanging at the end.

The pain came from every part of the line, straight to his nerves. Wai Heng gritted his teeth, but he did not let go of the creature in his hand