This left not only Duan Changzai, Du Huanzhen, and Wang Xiaowan stunned, but even Lu Zheng was shocked.
"You experienced the Spiritlight Needles yourself? How did you do that—stick one into yourself?"
Yang Caiyi cautiously glanced at Lu Zheng, then shook her head. "Three needles."
"Fuck!"
Lu Zheng could not help swearing. "Why? Practicing your pain tolerance?"
Yang Caiyi nodded as if it were only natural. "Master said that when fighting and casting spells, matters of life and death, getting wounded and seriously injured, are all unavoidable.
Since that was the case, if, at the brink of life and death, the pain from an injury became unbearable and affected one's spellcasting, wouldn't that be placing one's life and death in the enemy's hands?
Although the Spiritlight Needles can reverse the flow of the meridians, disrupt qi, and scatter blood, recovery afterward is easy, making them perfect for practicing the symptoms of injury.
I tried it. Though it really was painful, if I forced myself to endure it, it wasn't impossible to speak and cast spells for a short while."
Lu Zheng, "..."
Before Lu Zheng's eyes, that tiny figure seemed to appear once more—the little girl on a mountain in the bitter winter cold, clad only in a ragged padded cloth robe, curled up behind a rock at the summit without moving an inch.
A year of leisurely, comfortable living had not worn away her character. Instead, because of her cultivation, it had given her more choices.
The looks Duan Changzai and Du Huanzhen gave Yang Caiyi were filled with shock.
Just by looking at the young man's condition, they could tell how agonizing it was when the Spiritlight Needles entered the body.
Yet this little girl, who looked barely ten years old, had actually used three Spiritlight Needles to