The ice-cold beauty clad in white stood beside him, her expression as indifferent as ever.
Chu Xuan's wound was on his chest, a massive claw mark, deep enough to expose bone, with black smoke seeping out.
He first took out the Wrist-Cutting Knife, removing the necrotic flesh one by one, and scraping away the blackened bone, then used his Cultivation Technique to absorb the remaining Demonic Qi, before swallowing a pill to speed up his recovery, the entire process was smooth and skilled.
It wasn't until the wounds healed, scabbed over, and new skin grew, that Chu Xuan finally took a breath of relief.
He looked at the beauty beside him, who was watching intently, and joked, "Does it look good?"
The woman was taken aback, "Yes, it does."
She was referring to his fluid and seamless actions, the contorted expressions that couldn't affect the steadiness and precision of his hands.
Then the woman looked at Chu Xuan with a confused expression, "Why did you shield me from that strike?"
