Chapter 93

What do you mean... sorry, this is all that's left?

It's as if I came here to attend a funeral feast.

This strange thought flashed through Sister Xing Zhi's mind, but it was quickly squeezed out of her brain by a sudden sense of relief and surging joy.

"He... is dead?"

The few people in the forest looked at her, their relaxed expressions already explaining everything.

Fenghuaicheng.

Starting from the sky, everything was returning to normal.

The rain of dragon saliva stopped, the dark clouds dispersed, the sunlight melted the frost in the sky, and the clear, high autumn sky reappeared above Fenghuaicheng.

Except for the Immortal Lord's initial move to create "spies," the rain and frost were still what caused the most damage.

The frost started from the city towers, first surrounding the entire city along the walls, and then pushing inward, eventually covering about one-fifth of the city.

It spread neither fast nor slow; besides those who were killed by the frost because they had difficulty moving or could not react in time, more victims were forced out of their homes and had to endure the erosion of the dragon saliva rain.

There were also quite a few commoners harmed by the frost ghosts, but under the protection of Sister Xing Zhi, Shang Lang, and the others in the prefecture, this number remained under control.

As for the casualties and losses caused by various other chain reactions, they could not be estimated at this time; only after the whole city had undergone its first round of repairs could there be an approximate figure.

Fortunately, under the sunlight now, more people walked out of their homes, and the entire city no longer appeared so terrifyingly dead and silent.

The first sounds to rise in the city were the successive cries of grief; commoners who had lost their loved ones were wailing loudly, while more people were asking each other about the situation in a state of lingering fear. Gradually, the entire city even became somewhat noisy.

From a cruel perspective, the damage this disaster brought to Fenghuai was actually relatively easy to repair, because the frost spread house by house, which meant the victims were often units of families.

——For every deceased person, the few people most qualified to grieve for them had already become silent ghosts along with them.

Therefore, the sorrow permeating the city would soon be diluted, and with the autumn harvest imminent, life in the small city would soon return to the right track. Also, because there were not many broken families, the "burden" was naturally less, which was also a good thing for the finances.

But these were matters for later. At this moment, the county government office was still in a state of chaotic busyness; everyone was overwhelmed, the courtyard was filled with messy voices and footsteps, and even in the cool autumn air, everyone had a layer of sticky sweat on their necks.

But even if a thousand things were piled together, there must be one most important thing among them, and that was human life.

All the rooms in the county government office were occupied, and an entire row of civilian houses behind it had been requisitioned, but there were still many people whose injuries were not too serious who could only be placed in the courtyard first.

Sister Xing Zhi was the busiest one.

She was not a physician by specialty, but she was already the person with the deepest medical attainments here. And besides treating the wounded, she was also a consultant for all extraordinary problems left behind by the Immortal Lord—regardless of whether that was something a warlock could answer, as long as people felt the problem looked like something a warlock could answer.

But in such busyness where her feet never touched the ground, Sister Xing Zhi's expression was not heavy or irritable. Her eye sockets were red, her eyebrows were slightly raised, and the corners of her mouth would leak half a smile from time to time.

Because as soon as she entered the county government courtyard, she saw a pale, naked body topped with that familiar face, looking at her with dazed eyes.

——Chang Zhiyuan was truly unable to move Zhu Gaoyang back into the room, so he covered his lower body with a small quilt and then moved a folding stool over to sit beside him.

This body of Zhu Gaoyang now looked like the healthiest one among everyone, but his problem mainly lay in the Mind-Spirit Realm.

Although the Immortal Lord had fallen, the influence exerted by 【Quail Head】 would not disappear immediately. Although it was weaker, it still required an expert from the Immortal Platform with a specialty in mind-spirit, or a senior from the Long Jun Dongting who specialized in the "Heart Pool Dragon-Raising Method," to take action before he could recover.

However, this kind of problem, which would be considered serious in normal times, was now insignificant under the miracle of "returning from the dead." Sister Xing Zhi's tears gushed out at that moment, and she threw herself onto him and hugged him. Then Zhu Gaoyang looked at her blankly and muttered, "You... dog shit..."

Of course, she wouldn't argue with a fool.

After confirming Zhu Gaoyang's safety, the first person Sister Xing Zhi treated was that powerful old man whose name she did not know.

Because his life was also the most precarious.

Actually, Sister Xing Zhi felt that this was no longer "treatment," but just "comfort."

Because the most critical thing was that this body could no longer produce Qi.

Why is the vitality of people in the Jianghu more tenacious than others, and why can they repeatedly recover from serious injuries? Isn't it precisely because of this "second kind of blood" in their bodies?

However, with the current injuries of this body, even if he could produce his own Qi, the probability of survival would be slim, let alone now that he was entirely relying on Ming Qitian's Qi to maintain it.

Sister Xing Zhi racked her brains, standing before the couch for a long time without speaking.

The young man sat to the side, looking at the old man with a slightly pale face, seemingly knowing that the opportunity to cast his gaze like this was already running out. His fingers were twisted together, and unlike the common pleas and cries, he remained silent, as if he had already been prepared.

"Like this." Sister Xing Zhi finally thought of an idea to barely try, "I will construct a spell in the senior's body that can perform simple maintenance. If he can hold on until the Immortal Platform from the Divine Capital arrives, perhaps... they will have some ways."

Pei Ye raised his head, his eyes revealing some hope: "Okay... please hurry."

After exchanging a glance with this gaze, Sister Xing Zhi lowered her head and began to arrange her needles. For a moment, the joy of Brother Zhu's survival faded quite a bit.

It was hard for her to tell him that the chance of this spell lasting two or three hours was very slim, and even if it did hold on... the reinforcements coming from the Immortal Platform were not masters of the medical path.

The old man on the bed grinned slightly, not saying a word.

Sister Xing Zhi knew he must have understood... such a master. In her feeling, this old man was like a piece of withered iron; although he had already decayed to the end, when her gaze fell on that face, she could still smell a heavy sharpness.

He was indeed sharp enough.

Sister Xing Zhi flicked out needle after needle, silver and jade colors floating in the air, with wisps of spiritual energy as thin as thread wrapped around the needles.

"Silver Jade Life-Weaving" was passed down from the Mount Taishan Medicine Hut and was also collected by the Immortal Platform; it was a medical method that Black-Ribbon Warlocks could learn. Unfortunately, she did not have much time and had only learned enough to barely enter the door.

Using spiritual energy as thread to weave a complex spell within the body's meridians to ensure that blood and Qi did not dissipate was a highly ingenious internal-growth therapy.

The spellcasting took about two quarters of an hour, and a layer of thin sweat seeped out on Sister Xing Zhi's forehead.

This spell was inherently very taxing on the mind, and what constantly pressured her even more was the old man's constantly fading life. She had to be both fast and steady, without the slightest mistake.

Finally, this spell was barely completed. Without needing spiritual energy to perceive the vitality, one could see from the appearance that the old man's breathing had become much steadier.

"About two hours, it can hold on." Sister Xing Zhi let out a breath, lowering her head to pack up her needles.

(End of chapter)