Chapter 349: Healing Wounds

Relying on the pain of self‑injury, Bai Lang stayed conscious and didn't faint. He first washed the surface wounds clean with spring water, then gritted his teeth and flushed the interior with stored liquor. "If only I had hydrogen peroxide… If I ever go to modern society again, I'll definitely bring more first‑aid kits and such back, hoping this world's rules can support medicinal effects." He muttered through clenched teeth.

The Golden Bell Shield technique gives him a bronze head and iron arms, but it doesn't lessen the pain after injury—losing pain sensation would make him very dangerous, as he could die from uncontrolled damage. However, there is a Great Disintegration Technique that can temporarily block any pain, unleashing terrifying combat power—what is called a berserker works this way, though the price is post‑battle weakness and pain.

After cleaning his wounds, Bai Lang didn't rush to apply Gold Wound Medicine; instead, he found boiled hemp thread, threaded a needle through it, and sutured his own wounds. Naturally he gritted his teeth—though he couldn't reach the wounds on his back, he wished he had a woman skilled in needlework nearby. Since he couldn't, he just looked in the mirror and smeared Gold Wound Medicine on himself. He sutured what he could, applied medicine, then wrapped it with gauze.

After great effort, Bai Lang wrapped himself like a mummy; because he needed to immobilize his broken bones, he stayed rigid and stiff. With each breath, his inhalation and exhalation were extremely heavy and drawn out, and from time to time long flames or icy cold wind would spurt from his nostrils. All this came along with dark‑tinged blood water; without the blood, he probably couldn't expel it at all.

The old man's corpse was still outside, but Bai Lang first had to suppress his injuries before he could clean up the body. "Heh, five strains and seven injuries. If it were anyone else, this wound would have laid him flat on the ground; who could hold out like me?" After carefully probing with his qi, Bai Lang found his injuries were indeed severe—his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys were all damaged, and only a mouthful of thick, sturdy qi wrapped around them kept them from shattering completely.

"If my liver and kidneys weren't wrapped in qi, I could just pull them out and stir‑fry them—liver and kidney slices already diced…" The shattered viscera made Bai Lang think it was truly troublesome, but fortunately his cultivated martial art focuses on tempering the flesh, so given time he could still recover—provided the sword intent and fire energy lodged in his organs and injured parts didn't act up.

After nearly an hour, Bai Lang finally spat out the last mouthful of ice‑fire. "Damn, I've pretty much coughed up all my blood. I need to replenish blood!" His face turned pale; he quickly grabbed several big chunks of meat, crunching them down, then gulped a full bucket of clear water. After slightly steadying himself, he walked over to the old man's corpse outside to begin searching. The old man lay in a pool of blood and sewage, his body miserable, and already beginning to stiffen.

"Sure enough, corpse stiffening is unavoidable… Even an Innate Expert must follow this rule—I just don't know if it will rot; looks like it will." Bai Lang muttered, feeling over the old man's corpse but finding nothing valuable—just a few bags containing some pills, with no labels. "Even if I knew they certainly held wound medicine, who would dare eat them?"

A fly buzzed over, but the moment it crawled onto the blood and sewage it snapped—poof—into a flame and burned up. Bai Lang saw this and smiled. "Ah, so even after an Innate Expert dies, his body doesn't rot easily. That's good." He picked up a branch, drew it through the old man's bloodstains, and instantly the branch burst into flames. Bai Lang laughed loudly, kicked the old man's corpse off the cliff, and with a whirlwind tossed the sewage along with it— as for the bloodstains? Let them stay here.

This old man belonged to the Six and a Half Hall; Bai Lang finally recalled that he was roughly called the Old Man Tianhuo, though he'd forgotten the exact name. The Six and a Half Hall probably wanted to take advantage—too bad the old man couldn't finish speaking before he died, and Bai Lang hadn't thought of resolving this grudge, which surely would only deepen… "If I were seriously injured and unable to fight, this old thing would probably be feeling my corpse right now."

Bai Lang fondled the Yu Yu; after killing that Innate Elder, the Yu Yu suddenly seemed to come alive—its tentacles warm and smooth, as if it were about to send him to another world soon. "If you could let me cross over right now, that'd be great… then I wouldn't have to worry about the Six and a Half Hall coming for revenge—this time I've truly forged a great grudge." Bai Lang murmured to himself.

He tossed the bag up and down in his hand, Bai Lang returned to the Mountain God Temple. "It's getting more and more dilapidated…" He looked at the collapsed temple scorch‑marked, sighed, and said, "Should I get someone to fix it?" Then he thought better of it and decided to wait until his injuries improved.

After cleaning his wounds, Bai Lang didn't rush to apply Gold Wound Medicine; instead, he found boiled hemp thread, threaded a needle through it, and sutured his own wounds. Naturally he gritted his teeth—though he couldn't reach the wounds on his back, he wished he had a woman skilled in needlework nearby. Since he couldn't, he just looked in the mirror and smeared Gold Wound Medicine on himself. He sutured what he could, applied medicine, then wrapped it with gauze.

What came out of his wounds wasn't just blood water, but also the four seasons' sword intent. For a moment, the place where Bai Lang trained martial arts began to cycle through the four seasons. The grass and trees on the ground visibly grew, then were instantly frozen to death by chilling snow, and next scorched by fierce heat. The surrounding flora suffered, but Bai Lang was pleased—it meant he was continually expelling those things.

Moreover, the bathhouse on the side was flooded with Bai Lang's blood carrying fire energy, instantly boiling the water—there was no fire underneath, and the flowing mountain spring took over an hour to carry away the boiling water.

One day of healing—though Bai Lang lacked suitable medicines, he ate plenty of food and took those great qi‑replenishing pills; his own qi had already expelled most of the sword intent and fire energy from his body. If his broken bones weren't still mending, he could already leap about and keep fighting. "Of course it'd be best not to have any Innate Expert attack him, otherwise this would become very troublesome."

Bai Lang's qi circulated through his whole body; now he had openings to stimulate muscle and bone growth, absorbing medicinal power and transporting nutrients, striving to heal his bones as soon as possible. Once his bones healed, his injuries would be mostly gone.

It seems his luck is indeed good—probably the Golden Wind Fine Rain Pavilion and other forces seized the chance to attack the Six and a Half Hall for territory, which is why no one has come to help the old man bury his corpse; Bai Lang also saw that the corpses down the mountain have lain for two days without rotting, and any wild boars or wolves that tried to feed on them were instantly burned from inside out the moment they took a bite.