Chapter 888: Chapter 524: Live, and Make It Back Alive!
Before long.
Zhao Rong, urged awake by the Sword Spirit, rolled over and lay on the grass, freeing his only remaining left hand to grab a large handful of spiritual medicine for treating injuries from the Sumeru Object in his bosom.
Many of these came from the Great Li kingdom’s treasury.
The young Confucian scholar, his face smeared with blood, was barely breathing, and with a trembling left hand, he poured bottles of elixir pills onto the ground.
Then, his left hand fumbled around on the ground, grabbing a handful of elixir pills mixed with sand and dust, swallowing them down with blood like a hard pill to swallow...
The Sword Spirit anxiously felt the gradually stabilizing flow of qi in his body and breathed a slight sigh of relief.
At first, Zhao Rong felt a suffocating congestion of blood and qi in his chest, almost stifling his breath, but soon, as the effects of these priceless, quickly dissolving spirit pills and medicines began to manifest, he finally eased through the most difficult breath.
"Still, Zhu Yourong understands you."
Gui suddenly sighed.
At this moment, the young Confucian scholar was gasping heavily, lying on his back on the grass, his eyes wide and staring blankly at the gradually darkening sky.
He instinctively tried to stretch out his right hand, only to find it was gone, so he smirked self-mockingly and struggled to use his left hand to grasp the scholar sword on the ground to his right.
Zhao Rong held the scholar sword horizontally before his eyes, staring blankly at the area where Zhu Yourong had secretly left a ’stroke’.
Zhu Yourong had deceived him a little.
She only wrote two words.
One was "Yong" (Eternity), the other "Zheng" (Righteous).
But it wasn’t ten strokes; it was eleven.
The character for "Zheng" didn’t have any tricks, but she intentionally wrote the character "Yong" with six strokes. A hundred li south of the Bamboo Forest Courtyard.
By a rapid river, under a tree, the figure that suddenly appeared here, the black mana enveloping his entire body was slowly dissipating.
The figure of an injured man appeared on the ground, his snow-white clothes soaked with blood, covered in dust and bamboo leaves.
One of his sleeves was empty, brushing the ground, his breath weak.
A scholar sword lay fallen beside him.
There was a moment of silence.
"Wake up quick, Zhao Rong!" Gui assessed the situation and hurriedly called out...