Chen Zhengyang had been carefully explaining the essentials of accumulating qi and blood when his face suddenly turned pale. He abruptly twisted aside, clutching his chest.
With a pfft, a mouthful of dark red blood sprayed directly onto the bluestone slabs before him!
"Master!"
"Teacher!"
Zhao Tie and Fang Yuan's expressions changed drastically at the same time. They rushed forward, supporting his swaying body from either side.
Chen Zhengyang waved a hand. His breathing was somewhat disordered, and he forcibly suppressed the metallic sweetness rising in his throat. His voice carried an unmistakable trace of weakness.
"It's nothing... cough, cough... An old ailment. A short rest will do."
He tried to straighten himself, but the instant weakness in his aura could not deceive anyone.
Fang Yuan's gaze sharpened as he stared fixedly at the puddle of dark red blood on the ground, not yet fully absorbed into the stone.
Something was wrong! Blood from ordinary internal injuries was usually bright red or dark red, yet this blood... beneath the sunlight,
seemed to give off a faint, almost imperceptible chill. Even the temperature of the surrounding air appeared to have dropped slightly!
Chen Zhengyang was injured! And he had been wounded by an exceptionally Yin Cold force!
The thought exploded in Fang Yuan's mind like a thunderclap.
Who was Chen Zhengyang? The master of Zhengyang Martial Arts School, one of Qinghe County's acknowledged Third-Rank Masters!
Who could have injured him so severely that he needed to forcibly suppress it, even hiding it from his own Direct Disciples?
"Teacher, you..." Zhao Tie was filled with anxiety and wanted to ask more.
Yet Chen Zhengyang had already forced his back straight. Squeezing out a reluctant smile, he began waving them away.
"All right, all right. Just a minor mishap, and look how nervous