Before Song Mingyue could finish speaking, Ling Xiao's hand had already touched the cauldron. A bone-chilling cold shot up from his fingers, as if it would freeze the blood in his entire body. The moment his hand made contact, it recoiled instantly. Only then did Song Mingyue's voice ring out.
Song Mingyue glanced nervously at Ling Xiao, her face full of apology. "Brother Ling, are... are you all right? I'm so sorry, I forgot to tell you—that thing is extremely strange. You can't touch it!"
Ling Xiao pulled his hand back and looked at his slightly dusty fingertips. There were no visible changes, but the cold felt as if it had frozen him to his very core. He had the feeling that if he had actually gripped it, it might have frozen his thoughts solid.
