Turning his gaze, he pressed the intercom button on the bedside table. "Bring me a pot of warm boiled water. The young madam wants a drink."
"Yes," came the respectful reply from the other end.
After hanging up the intercom, Nangong Jin looked at Jinxuan’s delicate face and fell into deep thought.
Could it be the poison that Old Miao mentioned?
But how could that be?
Old Miao never even got close to Jinxuan.
However, it’s true that this poison doesn’t necessarily require direct contact. Nangong Jin doesn’t know much about it, but he’s heard of it before—from Miao Wu.
The poison is an incredibly mysterious thing. There’s no scientific basis for it, yet its existence is irrefutable.
And there are many methods. Some require ingestion, some just contact to take effect, and the most bizarre ones can work with something like a strand of hair, a worn piece of clothing, or even a person’s birth details.
Supernatural phenomena have always lacked scientific explanation, but they seem to exist contrary to reason. Ordinary people generally cannot fully grasp them.
The doctor’s explanation was strange: the body was feverish, yet the thermometer couldn’t register any temperature. This peculiar symptom—honestly, apart from the poison, there’s nothing else Nangong Jin can think of.
Didn’t Old Miao mention that he had a partner?
Wasn’t his cousin still not captured?
Could he have already infiltrated the capital?
Or did he use another type of poison, one that doesn’t require contact with a person?

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