"Enough observing," Tang Li Yue said.
Her fingers settled around the needles hidden in her sleeve. The thin metal pieces rested against her skin, familiar and cold. They were not enough to handle an entire warehouse if things went badly, but then again, she had never relied solely on a handful of needles.
A person who had spent most of her life surrounded by poisons learned early that there were many ways to make someone stop moving.
Some were simply less permanent than others.
Lu Chengran looked at her for a moment. He did not ask whether she was certain. He had already seen the woman behind the glass window. He had heard the child crying in the transfer room. He knew what the syringes meant.
